


An Ordinary Man

by Peskychloe



Series: Haikyuu!! Skaters [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drummer!Bokuto, Hospital Visit, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Musicians, Past Drug Addiction, Photographer!Akaashi, concert going, hairdresser, hairdresser!terushima, skateboarding nob heads, writer!ennoshita
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-15 02:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10548460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peskychloe/pseuds/Peskychloe
Summary: He should know never to trust Noya when he asks him to film them doing something stupid. Then again, he doesn't usually end up in this bad of a predicament, and it definitely doesn't usually start such a chain of events.-The story of how Ennoshita ended up with a new haircut, and a lot more than he bargained for, very loosely based on the musical, My Fair Lady.





	1. You'll run amok

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a crack fic, and ended up being full on angst/pining.

He hoped the cold stare he gave Noya was impressing upon him what a stupid idea he thought this was. His glares almost never managed to talk him, or Tanaka for that matter, out of whatever idiotic stunt they had planned, but he still always tried.

Usually their schemes didn't involve him, at least not since he'd stopped going skateboarding with them quite as often, but once in a while he would be asked to provide a permanent record of the chaos, and those were the times he really feared for them all. If they thought it was good enough to film it, it was definitely a bad idea.

'Look, it's nothing we haven't done before. We're just going to do it at the same time. And bigger.'

Ennoshita looked over his glasses at him. 'And this is nothing I haven't heard before either. You make everything sound reasonable, and then suddenly things are on fire.'

'That was one time! There's no flaming hoop here. Promise. Tanaka is going to stall on the lip of the ramp while I jump over him. That's it.'

'That sounds way too reasonable, and I find that alarming,' he said, taking off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. Talking to Noya was exhausting, but at least he was on his own. He was usually more persuadable than when he came packaged with Tanaka. 'Where's the catch?'

'There's no catch. Promise.' He made a cross over his chest with his fingertip.

'So, just an axel stall? He's not doing a handstand or anything.'

'Nope.'

'And you're just going to ollie over him? No flips?'

'I might do a grab. But only a nose.' He added the last bit, seeing Ennoshita's face darken.

This couldn't be it. Two relatively easy tricks, even the timing wouldn't be too hard as the stall would be easy to maintain long enough for them both to match up. Ennoshita could sense there was something he wasn't being told.

'Oh, yeah. And he's going to high five me'

And there it was.

'Noya, the timing for that would be ridiculous. He can't just stall there with his hand up waiting, it'll throw your jump off.'

'Well, that's why we need it filming!' he said with exasperation, as if Ennoshita was missing the whole point. 'If we manage it, it'll be once in a lifetime.'

'And if you don't manage it?' Which was the more likely outcome, if previous experiences were anything to go by.

'We fall on our asses and have a new 'fail' video...'

'...As if you don't already have enough...'

'...To upload on the channel,' Noya ignored him, 'They get the most hits anyway. Even a trip to the emergency room is gold! Come on! You want to see that.' He punched him as he said it, so hard Ennoshita had to rub his arm. Noya was much stronger than he looked.

'I really don't. Why would I want to see you both hurt?'

'Tanaka flirting badly with nurses? Me falling asleep in a chair looking like a dormouse? You pulling your infamous 'done with this bullshit' face at the camera?' Noya punched his shoulder with each following word, knowing he was finally make a dent in Ennoshita's resolve. 'Please? Please? Please...'

'Fine.' He pushed Noya off him, and threw his hands up in resignation. 'Fine! But if you get hurt, either of you... never again.'

Noya crossed his heart again. 'Promise.'

–

'I mean, technically, you can't refuse to film us again,' Tanaka pointed out between spoonfuls of jelly. In that way that his friend had of just finding things, somehow he'd managed to get hold of an armchair, and was slumped into it, his feet up on a chest of drawers.

'Yeah, he's right!' Noya agreed from his perch on the arm of the chair. He leaned in and stole the jelly off the spoon Tanaka was holding, speaking through a mouthful. ' _Technically_ neither of us were hurt, so...'

Ennoshita stared at them with the eye that wasn't currently covered with the bandage going around one half of his head. He'd given up trying to balance his glasses on his face without the use of one of his ears as a rest for the arms, so he was peering to get them into focus.

The bright lights of the hospital weren't helping either, but the painkillers were at least starting to kick in, and and his head was fuzzy rather than providing a background dull ache. The two of them were becoming background noise as well, and he tried to concentrate on the creeping lull taking him over.

'This isn't over. Very cross. Stitches.' He gestured towards the right side of his head, moving his hand around the area which had been sewn shut earlier on. 'Cross stitches,' he barked out, with a giggle.

Tanaka and Noya looked at each other, an unspoken dare brewing.

'Urm, can we film you? Like, right now?' Noya asked, already taking the lens cap off the camera, and pointing it towards Ennoshita.

At that moment, the door swung open, and a tall figure loomed over Noya, plucking the camera out of his hands, and holding it above his head.

'Hey! Don't do that to him!'

'Asahi!' he shouted, leaping up trying to get the camera back, before giving up and just hanging off his neck instead. He wrapped his legs around Asahi's hips, and the camera was passed over to Tanaka so that he could use both hands to pry Noya off him.

'Get off me,' he snapped a little, but there was still a blush growing on his cheeks, 'We're in a hospital, your friend is trying to sleep.'

'S'ok,' came a small voice from the bed, 'M'not tired. Let's go do more.' He started trying to stand up, but Asahi put a big hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

'No, you stay there. I'll take these two home.'

'You could take me. Leave these two.' His voice had lowered to a whisper, and he was leaning towards Asahi. 'C'mon, I'm good. Promise. Your hands are nice...' he trailed off, stroking the hand still on his shoulder, before it was suddenly snatched away by Asahi, whose blush was now enveloping his entire head.

'Oh my god! Tanaka, tell me you got that!' Noya shrieked looking over at Tanaka, who had the camera trained on Ennoshita as he smiled goofily at Asahi.

'Every second.'

Asahi took the camera off him, turned it off, and dragged the two of them out of the room, all without saying a word.

Ennoshita waved a drooping hand, before giving in to sleep.

–

When Ennoshita woke up, he wasn't sure where he was at first. He didn't sleep well usually, so he often found himself waking up after short naps on friend's sofas, or in bus stations, or just at his desk at work.

This wasn't like that though; he was definitely in a bed, but not his, and it was bathed in white sunlight. His eyes were bleary, and he was struggling to keep them open, not just because of the brightness. Was he hungover?

He checked the phone he'd tucked under his pillow, shocked that it claimed to be just after nine in the evening.

'Eh?' This made him sit up with a start, and he was hit by a wave of dizziness. He lay back down, and rubbed his forehead, only to find a bandage across most of it. He patted across following its path, and it became apparent this was why his right eye wouldn't open much.

His mouth was dry, difficult to swallow. He looked to his side, and the small cabinet next to the bed, with a plastic jug of water and a small plastic cup sitting next to his glasses, finally gave him the nudge his memory needed; he was in the hospital, of course.

He got himself a drink, and looked under the sheet lying on top of him. At least he was still dressed, he probably wasn't going to be staying the night, then.

That was when he realised with a start that his friends had gone already. He couldn't remember them leaving, the last thing he recalled was the nurse telling him he didn't have a concussion, and it was safe to take some painkillers and rest. That was at about two, so he'd been asleep for nearly seven hours. That was the most he'd ever slept in one go since he was a child. He made a mental note to ask what those painkillers were next time he saw a nurse.

He looked at his phone to see if there was signal, and getting a couple of bars, he texted his room mate Akaashi, asking him if Noya or Tanaka had told him where he was. He sat back against the pillows, closing his eyes again. It was hard to stay sitting up for more than a minute.

The room door opened, and he looked up to see Akaashi walk in.

'Eh? How long were my eyes shut? Feels like I just texted you.'

'I was outside in the corridor, you nob head.' He took a seat in the armchair next to the bed. 'Didn't want to wake you up. I've never known you sleep so long.'

'Ah, sorry. How long have you been waiting?'

'Just a couple of hours. It's fine, I was reading. The nurse said there was no rush to kick you out, at least not until later. They're not that busy.'

Ennoshita sighed, and flexed his toes downwards, stretching out his legs. He tried sitting up again, managing a couple more minutes this time before plopping back on the pillows. It was getting easier the more he was awake, he'd be able to leave soon.

'You hungry?' Akaashi asked. 'Might help with waking up.'

'Urm, a bit.' He fished out a granola bar from his rucksack, and opened it before passing it over to Ennoshita. 'Thanks.'

'So, was it worth it?' Akaashi asked, pointing at the video camera still sitting on the chest of drawers nearby. 'Did they at least manage it?'

He shook his head, swallowing his snack so he could speak. 'Nope. We did four takes where they did the trick, just without the high five, so I suggested not doing the nosegrab. The fifth take was the one where the board flew at my head.'

Akaashi stifled a laugh behind his hand. 'Sorry. It's not funny.'

'Plus we didn't even get that on camera, cause I was the one holding it.'

'Well, you'll probably get something useful. Silver lining.'

Ennoshita finished the bar, and wiped his hands together to get rid of the crumbs. 'I'll have a look at the footage tomorrow. See what we got.'

'You feeling better now?' Akaashi asked as he stood up. 'Shall I go find a nurse, see if you can go home? We'll get a taxi, you can't walk like this.'

He drowsily nodded, forever grateful not all his friends were nob heads.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, if you can guess what's going to happen, you're a better person than me.


	2. Just You Wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and update every Sunday - I've never had a schedule before.
> 
> Thanks to [Tugophelly](https://tugophelly.tumblr.com/) for giving this a read through before I posted it.

'I'm not sure what your point is, Suga.'

It was two days since the skateboarding video incident; a splitting headache prevented Ennoshita from going back to work the next day, or even working from home, and even now his head was still killing him. To be fair, his headache was mainly due to Suga visiting the office on his first day back.

Despite him not actually working for the magazine, he seemed to hang around there more than a lot of their regular staff. Asahi had introduced him to everyone a few months before, as his old school friend who wanted to do some research on skateboarding. Apparently it was for a Manga he was planning to write, but no one had seen even one finished page yet, not that they really minded. Suga was lively and friendly, and seemed to get on with everybody he met, meaning no one was particularly bothered by his being around any more.

He had, unsurprisingly, taken a particular shine to the art department, and was often found draped over Akaashi, looking for gossip on the famous people he'd been photographing, or making Yamaguchi blush by complimenting his artwork.

Usually, Ennoshita enjoyed chatting with Suga, with whom he had a shared interest in animated films, but today he was just making him feel worse, and he wanted him to leave him alone.

'You look like you have a head injury,' Suga explained, sitting on his desk, lifting sections of Ennoshita's dark hair away from his head, a look of disgust on his face.

'But I _did_ have a head injury.'

'You were hit by a skateboard, you didn't have a lobotomy. Which is how it looks. That or you have mange. Oh god, you don't have mange, do you?' Suga pushed Ennoshita away from him. 'Urgh, get away from me!'

'Fuck off, Suga,' he said, pushing him back. 'Why are you like this?'

'Positive reinforcement from doting parents,' he said haughtily, standing up and walking off with his nose in the air. He threw himself in the empty chair at the desk opposite Ennoshita's. 'Where's Akaashi anyway? It's his fault I'm picking on you instead of him.'

Suga span the desk chair in a circle, then stopped himself with his foot, and opened a drawer to rifle through it as if trying to find his friend.

'On a shoot.' He walked over to the desk, slapping Suga's hand away, and slamming it shut. 'Stop that! Please, Suga, I've got a headache. Tell me what you came for, and then go away.'

Suga pouted up at Ennoshita as he waited for an explanation; his light blonde hair was twisted into a braid, which moved as he scratched his head, face contorting in thought. Finally he seemed to give up.

'I honestly can't remember. I'm too sidetracked by your hair. Can you please go to a hairdresser?'

'I'm not sure what he'd be able to do though. Don't I just have to wait for it to grow back?'

Suga stood, clasping Ennoshita's shoulders in both hands, face suddenly earnest. 'Chikara, take it from a friend. Please, _please,_ get something done. Your hair is terrible enough, without having a bald patch.'

'What's wrong with my hair?'

He moved his hands up from Ennoshita's shoulders, patting the top of his head. 'It... looks like a six year old's haircut.' He squeezed his cheeks, attempting to soften the blow by continuing, 'And you are so much more interesting than this pudding bowl lets on.'

He was always surprised by the way Suga could give such compliments, while simultaneously sounding like the biggest insults you'd ever heard.

'Thank you very much, Suga, I love you too.'

'You're welcome.' He pecked Ennoshita on the lips, let go of his face, and finally said, 'I'll leave you alone. Take some pills, and get a haircut. And feel better soon.'

He watched him as he left, contemplating their contrasting appearances. Anyone who saw Suga would probably get a feel for his character immediately; it was obvious that over the years he'd tried different styles, adopting some aspects of each, which had left him with something that was immediately identifiable as Suga. Today, he was wearing calf length black trousers with bondage straps, a red t-shirt printed with the word 'condensation', and plimsolls covered in skulls. As well as the braid in his hair, he had eyeliner wings, and a necklace with Moana printed on it, which looked like it was from a toy shop.

Ennoshita envied the way he could so freely dress like that. They were a similar height and build, but he wouldn't even attempt to put together anything more extravagant than his usual jeans and t-shirts, the fear of drawing attention to himself was too great. He strained to see his reflection in the glass separating his office area from Yamaguchi's, trying to see the problem with his hair that was so obvious to Suga but evaded him.

His naturally dark hair was always neat and tidy, parted on one side, and brushed over his forehead. He'd had the same style as long as he remembered, but he saw no reason to change it. It kept his hair out of his eyes, but also meant it didn't need as many visits to the hairdresser as a shorter cut. Tanaka was always having to shave his head or it went fluffy, and Noya was always complaining about the upkeep of his blond streak. Ennoshita on the other hand could go six weeks without even thinking about his hair; he washed it, he brushed it, and then he ignored it until the next morning.

Pushing a hand through his hair, he thought it was probably time for a trim anyway. His fringe was nearly in his eyes, and he worked out it was almost six weeks since he last visited Terushima. Reluctantly, he got out his phone to make an appointment.

–

The phone buzzed in his belt pouch. 'Oh, hang on a second, I'll just get this call while that dries a bit. Hana, can you get my client a drink?'

Terushima called over his assistant, and then stowed away his scissors in the pouch, exchanging it for his phone.

He looked at his phone screen, and then answered with, 'Hey! Is it that time already?'

'Hi, Terushima. Yeah, I need to come in. This week if you can, please.'

'I've got a spot this afternoon if that's any use? Someone cancelled.'

There was a pause on the other end of the line, but Terushima was familiar with protracted silences from Ennoshita. At first, he'd thought he was ignoring him, he was so used to the constant chatter in the shop, clients coming and going at regular intervals all day, and his staff all being talkative. Now he knew better, and Ennoshita was just thinking, the breaks in conversation there for the organisation of his words.

'Yeah, that should be fine,' came the eventual answer. Terushima gave him the time, said he was looking forward to catching up, and then went back to his client.

'That's filled my three o'clock anyway,' he said to Futamata as he passed his desk.

'Anyone interesting?'

'Ennoshita.'

His nose screwed up, and he carried on inking his drawing.

Terushima laughed. 'What's wrong with Ennoshita?' He placed the cape around his client's shoulders, and began brushing through her hair, occasionally spritzing it with something in a plastic bottle.

'There's nothing wrong with him. He's just a bit... meh. I don't think I could pick him out of a line-up.'

'He's a nice guy though. Plus he hangs around with Noya and Tanaka, he can't be that boring.' In the momentary silence, the scratching of Futamata's pen was joined by the snip of Terushima's scissors as he began cutting hair.

Futamata looked up as if he'd just remembered something. 'He lives with Akaashi, you know.'

'Akaashi Keiji?' Terushima turned towards Futamata, a surprised expression on his face. 'Oh, I didn't... urm, realise.'

As well as cutting Akaashi's hair for the last couple of years, he'd also worked with him a few times on photo shoots. Cutting Akaashi's hair was usually the highlight of whatever week he chose to visit; his hair was soft and curly, a pleasure to just stroke your fingers through as well as cut, and there was the added bonus of getting to look at him in the mirror without being a weirdo.

'Oh, I don't mean _live_ _together_ live together,' Futamata hurriedly said, 'I didn't mean to break your heart, Yuuji.'

He stopped cutting hair, and put a hand on his hip, pointing the scissors towards Futamata. 'Just 'cause I think he's nice to look at, doesn't mean I fancy him. I can appreciate a nice face, and not want to fuck them.' He looked at his client in the mirror. 'That's right isn't it, Saeko?'

'Absolutely! Anyone who doesn't think Akaashi is the most beautiful human on the planet is lying.' She looked pointedly at Futamata, who stared back, until eventually shrugging his shoulders and nodding.

'Yeah, ok, I'll give you that.' He resumed drawing, and Terushima went back to cutting Saeko's hair.

'You know, though,' Saeko started with a low voice, 'They did date for a while.'

'Who did?' Futamata and Terushima asked in unison.

'Ennoshita and Akaashi.'

Terushima stopped cutting her hair again, and stared at her in the mirror. 'Never! I don't believe you.'

Saeko looked back, with an eyebrow raised. 'You're forgetting. Ryuu is my brother. I know all Chikara's little secrets.'

Terushima shook his head as he carried on snipping the back of her hair. 'I just... can't see that at all. I didn't even know Ennoshita was gay. Akaashi, yeah, but...'

Saeko laughed. 'I've know him since he went through puberty. It was pretty obvious when the rest of Ryuu's friends were staring at my boobs, and Chikara was staring at my brother's abs.'

'Well, you learn something new every day.' He said thoughtfully, gently pulling down strands of hair on either side of Saeko's face to check the lengths matched.

'What's up, Yuuji?' Futamata shouted over, 'Changing your mind about your boring client?'

'You're the one who said he was boring! I said he was nice.'

'He's lovely,' Saeko agreed, 'Got a lot of time for him. He looks out for my idiot brother. Ryuu would probably be dead by now without Chikara talking him out of stuff.'

'I still couldn't tell you what he looks like,' Futamata muttered.

The news he was gay shouldn't have been that surprising. If he was honest, Terushima hadn't really given it that much thought. A voice in his head said, Because he's not that hot, and he shamefully had to agree with himself that was probably the reason.

He pictured Ennoshita's face as he worked; he wasn't ugly, just not particularly striking. He had nice eyes, even if they were a bit droopy, he was tall and always well turned out. There was nothing _wrong_ with him, not at all.

Somehow he'd managed to get Akaashi Keiji to go out with him, and Terushima had to admit he was curious about that.

Akaashi was lusted after by, basically, everyone who met him. Not only that, he was that intriguing mixture of someone who everyone wanted, who had no inkling he was so sought after, and if he found out, no understanding of why. That a person who could have anyone they wanted, had chosen Ennoshita Chikara, was an intriguing puzzle.

'How long ago was this?' He hadn't realised how long he'd been thinking, and the conversation had been forgotten in his silence, Saeko and Hana moving onto another topic. They both looked confused.

'How long ago was what?'

'Ennoshita and Akaashi.'

'Are you still on that?' Futamata said with a laugh. 'Are you positive you don't have a thing for Akaashi?'

'Nah, it's not that, it's... Ennoshita. I just wondered, you know, why. What's he got?' He'd finished cutting Saeko's hair, and was preparing to use the dryer; her expression stopped him, as she looked offended and turned in her seat to face him.

'Look here. Not only is he a nice bloke, he's handsome, has a decent job, and he's good fun to be around.'

'Yeah, Yuuji,' Hana agreed, 'Not everyone is as shallow as you are.' She then stormed off into the back room, slamming the door behind her.

Futamata spluttered with laughter from behind his arm as he continued drawing, and Saeko turned back round to let him start blow drying her hair. He hesitated, seeing she was still smouldering.

'Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suggest he wasn't good enough. I just wouldn't have put them together, they don't seem well matched.'

Her face softened a little bit. 'Sometimes it's not about that. I know, it's weird, cause that's your whole job, making people look good. But it's not everything.'

'No, I know, I think I just feel...bad for him? If he looks boring, people won't give him a second chance.'

'People like _you_ might not...' Saeko began.

'No, honestly hear me out! I'm not trying to be mean. Futamata, you know what I mean, right?'

'Don't bring me into this, dude...'

'I didn't make the rules!' Terushima was starting to get frustrated. 'It's just how things are.'

Before anyone could say any more, he turned the hairdryer on, holding it against Saeko's hair as he pulled the brush through it. He was making himself sound like an superficial arsehole. He knew what he was trying to say, but it was coming out all wrong.

It sounded to Terushima like Ennoshita had lots of good qualities, that people just wouldn't get to know about if they didn't get to know him; and unfortunately, no one would want to get to know him if he didn't do something about his appearance. If he looked uninteresting, no one would ever find out he wasn't, that's all he had been trying to say.

Saying it all again in his head, he realised he still sounded like an arsehole.

He finished blow drying Saeko's hair, by which time Bobata had finished his lunch and was preparing for his next customer. He wandered over to see what Futamata had been drawing, complimenting him on the design and asking him where it was being tattooed.

Saeko was admiring her new haircut in the mirror, looking less annoyed than before. As he looked around the shop, he couldn't help but think they were being pretty two-faced thinking he was the superficial one. All of them had jobs which depended a lot on their appearance.

He'd once asked Futamata why he always wore vests to work in, even when it was cold, and had been told that no one trusted a tattooist without tattoos, so he made sure to have them on display at all times. Bobata had multiple piercings in his face, including his eyebrow, and mouth, he assumed for the same reason; people expect the person piercing them to have plenty themselves.

He checked Saeko's hair in the mirror, catching sight of his face, mid thought. His own blonde hair was always immaculate, a fresh dye job every week, the same day as he shaved the underneath. You can't trust a hairdresser with messy hair, he'd always been told that during training; now that thought was making him feel uneasy. They were all skilled at what they did, were other people judging them on their appearances as much as he seemed he had been? He tried to shake the mess out of his head, refocusing on the job at hand.

'You like it?' he asked Seako, holding a mirror up to show her the back. She nodded, a broad smile on her face. He almost brought up how important her appearance was, as the lead singer in a band, but he left it, not wanting to offend a regular client.

As she paid him, she offered him to put him on the guest list for their next concert that weekend, and he was glad to see any frostiness between them had disappeared.

'That would be great, thanks. Hey, sorry about earlier...'

She waved a hand at him. 'It's fine, I'm just protective of him. He's like another brother.'

'If it helps at all, I'm gonna make him look fantastic later on.'

She sighed. 'I'm still not sure you get it, but I appreciate you sorting that hair out. I can't believe it took two days for him to call you.'

As she walked out, he wondered about the two days, but it was soon forgotten when Bobata came over and talked to him as he swept up the stray hair clippings.

'So, what was that about?'

'Ennoshita Chikara is coming in later. I've decided to get him to try a new haircut.'

Bobata snorted, and looked at Futamata as he walked over to join them. 'Hear that?'

He folded his arms, leaning against the wall next to where Bobata already was. 'Yep. There's no chance.'

'You will _never_ get him to have a new haircut! He's had that for years!'

'And even if you do, it won't help. He'll still be boring.' He held a fist out to Bobata, who obliged by bumping it.

Terushima stopped sweeping and looked at them. 'You two are fucking idiots.'

'I bet you can't persuade him,' Futamata said.

'And _I_ bet that even if you do, he still looks ugly.'

'Good shout! Yeah me too, I want in on that.'

'Don't call him ugly!' Terushima slammed the broom into the ground, scowling at them. His inner thoughts from earlier were still haunting him. When had he become like this? He was sure he never used to think this way; maybe a place dedicated to changing appearances was bound to become a cathedral to the cosmetic.

'So, how are we going to measure him _not_ being plain?' Bobata said, ignoring Terushima's outburst.

'Number of people interested in him?'

'How would we measure that?'

'Number of hook-ups?'

'How's that any easier to count?'

Terushima had had enough. 'I'm not betting on whether I can give him a haircut good enough to get him sex!' he interrupted with a shout. 'This is ridiculous.'

'Don't think you're good enough to pull it off?' Bobata asked, sidling over to him.

He'd finished sweeping, and put the broom back against the wall. 'It's not that, it's...'

'If you're not scared, take the bet, loser.' Bobata held out a hand, and Futamata grinned and joined in.

He looked at them both, infuriated that they didn't respect his skill enough to think he could give someone an impressive haircut, but somehow even more furious that they didn't think Ennoshita could get someone to sleep with him without a different haircut in the first place.

As a twisted sign of respect to the man who wasn't even present, he put his hand out to shake both their hands. He'd show them what he could make out of Ennoshita Chikara.


	3. Credit where it's due

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knew I could write 3.5K words about a haircut?
> 
> posted earlier - you might have seen the mess I made accidentally posting chapter 4 as well, sorry about that

By half past two, Ennoshita was really starting to flag, and the thought of having to go and have someone mess with his hair wasn't making him feel any better. On any other day, a haircut would be an expensive necessity, today it seemed like impending torture. He never should have agreed, but he wasn't sure he could put up with any more jokes about the bald patch in his hair.

The atmosphere at the hairdresser was also going to play havoc with his headache; the shop was populated by loud-mouths much of the time, and he hadn't given himself enough time to prepare.

That morning, Akaashi had insisted he leave his bike at home and use the bus, just for a week, obviously still worrying about his health. It was sweet, but Ennoshita suddenly realised this meant he had no idea how he was going to make his appointment. It was too far to walk in the time he'd allowed, and he didn't even know how to start finding out how to get the bus there.

He grudgingly hailed a taxi outside the building, and gave the driver the address, before settling in the back seat with headphones plugged in. There was a work message he hadn't seen yet, from Daichi, asking if there was someone who could go and review a concert at the weekend. Ennoshita put forward himself and Akaashi as an option; he didn't mind Small Giant, they were more interesting than the usual bands they featured, having both a female singer and drummer, and he'd been meaning to catch them live after hearing some of their stuff online.

'Anywhere round here is good,' he said, seeing the sign for Chop Shop flash by the window in a blur of colour. Sandwiched between a takeaway and a newsagent on a fairly quiet road just outside of the town centre, its bright yellow facade stuck out like a sore thumb.

The ground floor was mainly occupied by the reception and waiting area, with a backwash sink and two areas for clients, each with a mirror and salon chair. This floor was primarily the domain of Terushima, although Futamata was often found quietly drawing at a desk in the corner. Bobata would join them to chat in-between his own clients, although his piercing room was upstairs, next to the room with Futamata's tattooing set-up. Ennoshita had never been in either room, but whenever he'd been upstairs to use the bathroom, he'd found the upper floor darker and more oppressive than downstairs.

He paid the driver, took a deep breath, and made his way inside.

–

The sound of the door opening caught Terushima's attention, followed by Hana's loud voice greeting someone in sympathy.

'Oh my word, Chikara, what happened?'

Terushima turned around from his preparations, to see Ennoshita draping his scarf over the hat rack, followed by a dark blue pea coat. His left eye had a gauze square taped over it, and most of that side of his face was covered in scratches. The hair on his left side was missing in patches, areas shaved where he could see small areas of stitching.

'It's nothing, I'm fine. Someone hit me with a skateboard.'

'On purpose?' Hana looked shocked.

'Nah, I was filming Noya, and he slipped. It's no big deal, looks worse than it is.' He pointed to the eye patch. 'I scratched my cornea, this just keeps out the light. The rest is just scratching from the trucks, few cuts, you know.'

Terushima walked over, frowning. 'When was this?' he asked.

'Day before yesterday.'

What Saeko had said about two days made more sense now. Had he really been walking around like that all this time? He asked Hana to make a cup of tea for them both, and took Ennoshita over to one of the salon chairs.

'Why didn't you wear a hat?' he asked, turning Ennoshita's chair slightly so he could get a better look at how much of a state his hair was in.

'Hats interfere with my glasses. It's not a problem. You're worse than Suga.'

'Suga?' he asked, looking up at Ennoshita in the mirror.

'You've not met Suga yet? Oh, man, you two would get on like a house on fire. While possibly setting a house on fire while you were at it.' His mouth smirked up a minuscule amount at the corner.

Terushima ran his fingers through the hair on top of Ennoshita's head. It was still thick and in good condition, it was only really the back and sides which had been affected, and even then only on one side.

'What's the diagnosis?'

'Well, it's not as bad as I thought when you first walked in. Are you going to be OK with getting it washed with those stitches?'

Before he could answer, Hana walked over with two cups of tea, putting one on the shelf in front of the mirror, and holding out the other one to Ennoshita.

'I wasn't sure if you wanted sugar,' she said, head down and looking at him from underneath her lashes, a trace of pink on her cheeks. 'I seem to remember you didn't, just milk isn't it? But people change their minds, don't they?'

'Thank you, but no, I haven't changed.' He gave her a small smile, and she looked away. 'Just milk is fine.'

She started to walk back to her desk, but Terushima spoke. 'Hana, before you go, could you wash ...'

'Ah, no,' Ennoshita interrupted him, a strange look on his face. Hana had stilled, but didn't turn around. 'I can't have my hair washed. 'Cause of the stitches.'

Hana scuttled away behind the safety of her desk, without another word, leaving Terushima staring after her flummoxed. His assistant was usually more friendly with his clients, he'd have to have a word with her after work.

He turned back to the mirror, and caught that curious expression of Ennoshita's again as he put the tea onto the shelf next to the other cup. His forehead was furrowed, and his lips were pressed together and turned down slightly. He looked towards Terushima via the mirror, and just as quickly it was gone, replaced with his usual passive mask.

'So,' his voice was bright, and Terushima couldn't be sure he'd just imagined the whole thing. He took his glasses off, folding them carefully and placing them onto the same shelf as the cups. 'What do you recommend?'

Terushima had been thinking about what to suggest during the prior two appointments he'd had. It wasn't because of the bet, not entirely. There was nothing more enjoyable to him as a hairdresser than being able to just play with someone's hair, moulding it to his own whims. He'd once had a long-haired female client, who sat down in the chair, and said, 'Cut it all off, do whatever you want,' and it had been the best day of his life.

While Ennoshita wasn't usually quite as accommodating as that, he did have enough hair for quite a major style change, and seemed to be open to suggestions for the first time since he'd met him. He decided to push for the style he'd decided on during his ruminations.

'Well, it's still long here,' he said, holding it straight upwards away from his head, 'But the back and sides are the problem. So, I was wondering, would you like to try an undercut?'

'What's that?'

'There's a few ways of doing it, but it's basically buzzed short at the back and sides, but longer on top. The difference between the lengths is what makes it interesting.' He lifted his own blonde hair to show the shaved brown underneath. 'Mine is an undercut, for example, but you don't have to go as extreme as this.'

'Oh right. So you could shave mine all off, but I could keep the length here?' He lifted the hair away from his forehead in a clump.

'Yeah sure. You like your fringe?' Ennoshita nodded. 'What is it you like about it? Just so I can make sure you like the haircut.'

He took a moment to think, eyes flicking to the left, and Terushima smiled with recognition; he was organising his thoughts again, he'd obviously never given as much thought to his haircut as he was at this moment.

'I think it might just be 'cause I'm used to it. I can't imagine not having hair here,' he said, gesturing to his forehead.

Terushima picked up the water bottle and spritzed Ennoshita's hair with it, before taking a comb from his belt and dragging it through. He brushed it back off his face, before placing his hand on the top and pushing slightly, creating a small quiff, holding it in place with his palm.

'You don't feel comfortable like this?' he asked, looking at their reflection to admire his handiwork.

He did look quite different with his hair off his forehead like this. His cheeks were rounded, but the extra height seemed to narrow his face, exaggerating cheekbones Terushima hadn't ever seen before.

'I feel OK about it. Mainly because I can't see myself properly.' He pulled a faint smile again, and Terushima couldn't help but laugh.

'Your eyesight's that bad, eh?' He clipped the hair he was holding into position, freeing his hands to smooth the hair over his ears as flat as he could. 'Shame, cause you look pretty good with it like this.'

Ennoshita leaned forward to get his glasses, and put them back on, looking back up and grimacing at his reflection. 'You think?'

Terushima took a second look, appraising it from a few angles.

He really did look good with it off his face a bit. From the right side the patch over his eye wasn't visible, and, particularly with his glasses back on, he looked older. Not in a bad way, just more his actual age rather than a high school-er. It was amazing how the same glasses could create two different effects just by moving some hair around.

He realised he was staring, and said, 'Yeah, it suits you. Definitely.'

Watching Ennoshita turn his head from side to side, he could see his face brightening as he took in his appearance. In moments like this, he knew he'd chosen the right career; there was nothing quite like a haircut for giving someone self-confidence, and he could already see it washing over Ennoshita, even though he hadn't even taken out his scissors yet.

'I feel a bit weird saying this, but yeah. I look pretty good. Fuck it. Yes. Let's do it.'

He pumped his fist at his side, just behind Ennoshita's back. That was one part of the bet won, much more easily than he'd thought. He couldn't wait for the other two to finish up and come downstairs.

–

The feel of Terushima's hands as they lifted sections of his hair, and the coldness of the scissors against his skin, much closer than usual, was more soothing than he'd expected. Every now and again, the pads of his fingers would press gently into his scalp, encouraging him to tilt his head to one side or the other.

'Let me know if I hurt you,' he mumbled at one point. It took a minute for Ennoshita to understand what he meant.

'My stitches are fine, don't worry. Is that why you didn't shave it?'

'I don't really use clippers. I trained as a hair stylist.' Seeing his confusion, he clarified with, 'Clippers are more for barbers.'

'Is that the difference?'

'Not just that. I colour hair as well. Barbers don't usually.' His sentences were clipped as he concentrated on the hair cut.

'I always thought a barber was a male hairdresser. Or maybe men always went to barbers? I dunno, something to do with gender.'

'That's quite an old fashioned view. It's more about the style of haircut. We style hair more, whereas barbers do only a few simple styles. They do shaving too, of course. And actually, to start with, barbers used to be dentists. Like, five hundred years ago, I mean.'

'Really?' Ennoshita lit up with this knowledge.

Terushima stood up from where he'd been concentrating on neatening the hair at the nape of his neck, to look at him properly in the mirror. 'Yeah, that's where red striped barber poles came from. It represents the leeches they used in surgery.'

'Incredible,' he breathed out, making Terushima laugh. 'Sorry, I just love stuff like this.'

'Me too,' he said, carrying on with the haircut. 'They're also used in South Korea to show where brothels are.'

'That must lead to some embarrassing misunderstandings from tourists...'

He stopped cutting, and looked up from under his lashes, a glint in his eye. 'Especially when they see a sign for a cheap blow job.' He tutted at himself and shook his head. 'That doesn't even work'

Ennoshita was giggling as he said, 'Nah, not really. Still made me laugh though.' He thought for a minute, before saying, 'I was just trying to think of a cock joke with poles.'

'How old are you?'

'Oh  _ comb _ on, dick puns are the  _ highlight _ of my day.'

Terushima groaned. 'That's terrible.' The glint was still in his eyes though, and Ennoshita could tell he was probably trying to come up with more hairdressing puns. 'Damn, it's not as easy as it looks, I can't think of one!'

'I know. My puns are to  _ dye  _ for.' This time Ennoshita groaned. 'Even I know that one was bad.'

'It was bloody awful.' He tapped the comb lightly on the top of his head. 'Now then, that's the really short bits done. Let's get going on the top.'

The longer hair was loosened from the clip holding it out of the way, and it fell over the top of the shaved areas. The ends brushed against the very short hair at the sides, a weird mixture of ticklish and over sensitive. Ennoshita ran his fingers backwards and forwards over the back of his head.

'It's so soft. And prickly.'

'It'll be quicker next time, now the base is cut in. You could get someone to shave it in-between haircuts. Does Tanaka do his own?'

'I think he has clippers, yeah. But I wouldn't fucking trust him. Can you imagine? He'd probably shave a swear word into the back. I'll just come back here.'

'You trust me not to do that?' Terushima said, smoothing the hair at his nape, snipping small errant tufts as he did so. The touch was feathery across the freshly trimmed skin, dappling goosebumps along Ennoshita's forearms. He watched as he moved his hands to the mop of hair on top, raking them through it to brush it back off his forehead. It felt so calming he almost closed his eyes.

''Course I trust you. I've never let anyone else cut my hair so short before.' He looked up to see Terushima combing a section upwards and snipping along the edge of the comb. His eyes flicked to meet Ennoshita's, and they shared a smile.

'That's nice to know.'

A comfortable silence fell over them as he carried on cutting the top. Ennoshita's mind drifted to work, and he asked if it was OK to check his phone, getting a wave of agreement in-between snips. He held the phone close to his face, as he was still without his glasses, and opened the group message from earlier; Akaashi had agreed to do the review with him, and sent him a separate message just between the two of them to make arrangements. He sent a quick reply, but it was difficult to hold his phone close enough to read while having his hair cut.

Luckily, it didn't take as long to cut the top as the sides, and soon Terushima was leaning forwards over his shoulder, holding lengths of hair on both sides to check they matched.

Ennoshita looked up, and made out the vague outline of his face. Already he could tell he looked quite different, how much so he couldn't tell without the help of his glasses. Whether he'd done the right thing was becoming more of a worry, now the reality was hitting. The floor was littered with dark clumps he assumed was his hair.

Terushima opened a pot of something, scooping a lump of it out and rubbing it between his hands. He brushed it through his hair, and it felt heavy, a little greasy. He'd never really used anything in his hair, and reflexively he ran his own fingers through it just afterwards.

'Hey! I only just styled that,' Terushima said without any real malice. 'It's pomade. You ever used it?'

Ennoshita shook his head, and smelled his fingers; they smelt like a mixture of vanilla and coconut, and didn't feel as sticky or greasy as he worried they might. 'Mmm, it's nice.'

'It's water based, so it's easy to wash out.' He passed him a slim red and black tin, looking more like shoe polish than a hair product. He couldn't read the label, but then Terushima said, 'You can keep that one, it's half full.'

He thanked him, popping it into the pocket of his jeans. Terushima carried on moving hair around, occasionally cutting off a stray hair here and there. Eventually he seemed satisfied, and leaned forwards to get Ennoshita's glasses for him.

'You ready?' he asked, passing them over. Tentatively he put his glasses on, and looked up at his reflection.

It wasn't as extreme as he'd expected, while still being wildly different to his old style. He hadn't lost much length on the top, but what was there was mainly brushed back off his forehead. Terushima had left a thick strand hanging, more untamed than the rest, which made the style familiar to him somehow. The quiff wasn't as big as he'd feared it might be, and the line between the longer and shorter hair wasn't pronounced, just fading from one shade to another.

Terushima was hovering behind him, looking nervous. He held up the second mirror to show him the back, a strained smile, eyebrows raised. He looked at the immaculate lines of the haircut, and started to smile appreciatively.

'What do you think?' Terushima's voice almost shook as he asked him, and Ennoshita couldn't understand why he was so nervous, he'd done an amazing job.

'I barely recognise myself. But in a good way!' he quickly added, seeing Terushima look horrified. 'I thought it would be more... weird.'

'That's another difference with hair dressers. It's more about styling the hair to suit what you want. Not that barbers don't, I just mean... this is bits of about four different classic styles. I wanted it to be comfortable for you as well as being new.'

'I can't even tell which bits were shaved by the hospital.'

Terushima snorted. 'I should hope not.' He stumbled a little over his words as he asked, 'Can I take a quick photo?'

'Yeah sure. For your portfolio?' Terushima nodded, and took out his phone. 'Want me to stand?' He nodded again, and motioned for him to stand in front of the patterned wallpaper near reception.

He took off his glasses, and turned the right side of face towards the camera, he didn't really want the eye patch ruining the photo. He tried to smile naturally, hating having to pose. Hairdressing puns were still swimming around his head.

'I wasn't sure at first... but now it's  _ growing  _ on me.' He laughed at his own tortured joke as he heard the shutter sound going off. Terushima looked at the photo, and must have decided it was suitable, as he nodded, and didn't take any more.

He put his glasses back on, and scooted over to the mirror, ducking down to get another look at himself. It took him by surprise again, even though he knew he'd look different. His headache from earlier had gone, and he felt refreshed, confident, and it seemed like a waste he wasn't going out somewhere. Maybe he'd persuade Akaashi to go for a drink after work?

He turned round to say, 'Thanks so much. I really like it.' Terushima gave him a contented smile, seemingly proud of his work. 'Oh, and for the wax or gel or whatever it is.'

'Pomade,' Terushima corrected him, 'And you're welcome.' He'd fetched the coat and scarf off the rack for him, and was holding it open for him; Ennoshita walked into it, putting his arms into the sleeves, and smiled at him when he turned round to do up the buttons. He cocked his head at Terushima, who had an unreadable, expression on his face.

'What's up?'

'You just … look really different. I'm just checking over the haircut, that's all.'

Ennoshita passed over the notes to pay for the haircut, with a tip added, 'To cover the pomade,' he insisted when Terushima tried to give him change. With one final look in the mirror, he left the shop, waving happily through the window, a spring in his step.

–

Futamata finally spoke from the corner where he was drawing; a simple, quiet, 'Fuck.'

Terushima knew it was a grunt of annoyance at losing part of the bet; Futamata had come downstairs halfway through the appointment, an eyebrow raised towards him just after nodding a greeting at Ennoshita. He'd merely given him a thumbs up in reply, a shit eating grin on his face to ensure the gesture was read as sarcasm.

'I see you got a photo so you can brag to Bobata?'

Terushima's smile dropped. That was exactly why he got the photo, and he felt ashamed at lying to Ennoshita about using it for his portfolio. The style wasn't complicated enough to use as an example of his skill, and he didn't have a before photo anyway. Nodding wasn't really lying, that was the only way he could square his actions with his conscience.

He opened up the photo, the guilt gathering in his stomach. The one saving grace was that he'd definitely done a good job with his haircut, he could tell him he decided not to use it for his portfolio at some point in the future, cancel out the lie.

The sinking feeling wasn't shifting, and he knew it wasn't about that at all. He'd told another, much bigger lie, one not so easy to deal with.

'Fuck,' he said, aping Futamata's earlier sentiment. There really wasn't much else he could say.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toupee continued
> 
> (I know...)


	4. A Blooming Boisterous Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of notes at the end, but for now, here's a YouTube playlist \- it includes the videos I used as inspiration for the bands, as well as any songs mentioned in the fic, videos including their heroes, and things which sound like I imagine the bands sound. More information at the end to avoid spoilers for this chapter.

The Junction looked, for all intents and purposes, like an office block, or maybe a school. The huge car park was disproportionate to the size of the venue, due to it actually being the town's park and ride car park during the day. In summer evenings, it would be used as a drive through, the highlight of which was the annual showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, when everyone would dig out their bowler hats, suspenders and maid outfits. One year, Akaashi had been at a concert on the same night as this event, and it was quite a spectacular sight seeing people sitting on the bonnets of their cars, shouting 'Touch Me' along with the film while twirling feather boas.

Inside The Junction, it looked more like a gym reception, with a desk in the centre, and corridors leading off to either side. They curved around the main area, with doors leading off onto the dance floor on one side, or into toilets on the other. The corridors themselves were usually teeming with people, whether anyone was on stage or not; the sound bled so easily out of the main room it was possible to listen to the entire show from just outside the toilet door.

The main room was dark, with little to no features, just a couple of pillars. There was a bar along the back wall, which shared a door with reception, and often the same member of staff on their rare quiet nights. Akaashi had reviewed a band one night which only sold seven tickets according to the person on the door; he went often enough to recognise him, but wasn't sure of his name, he and Ennoshita just referred to him as 'The Snake'. They went there enough to recognise a few regulars, but never really spoke to anyone else, preferring to hunt for a chair or two (they were few and far between) and write notes.

The other regulars all had code names too, for ease of talking about what they were all getting up to, which was usually groping someone or being sick somewhere. There was Gabriel, a soft grey-haired man who looked like an actual angel, who was often seen with The Monster, who had weird red hair and a weirder face. Sometimes their friend, Lefty, was with them. He'd been given that name purely because they once saw him writing with his left hand, and decided it was the most interesting thing they'd ever noticed about him.

Tonight, none of those three had turned up, but they spotted another pair of favourite regulars the minute they signed in at the door.

'Oh look, The Dumbasses are in,' Akaashi said, pointing over at two young men, one tall and dark, one ginger and shorter by about a head. They were usually shouting at or physically fighting each other in some way. Despite their constant state of animosity, they were always together, and he and Ennoshita had a running bet about whether they were actually a couple.

Tonight was no exception; the taller one was holding the collar of the shorter one's t-shirt, and shouting something about him being selfish, while the shorter one was shouting back just as loudly about an H-Block, whatever that was.

'If they were any closer, they'd be kissing. I don't know how you can't see it.'

Akaashi had heard this argument more times than he cared to remember, and his answer was always the same. 'Someone being nasty to you doesn't automatically mean they fancy you. It wasn't true in the playground, it's not true now.'

'Maybe not for someone who looks like you,' Ennoshita muttered.

'Oh shush, what happened to your burgeoning confidence? I couldn't hold you back on Thursday after your haircut.'

Ennoshita shrugged away the memory; after he got back from seeing Terushima, he had insisted on taking Akaashi out for a drink, which had then led to some possibly ill-advised 'friends with benefits' action. Not that Akaashi had minded that much, it had been a long time since either of them had had sex with anyone, and they usually slept together at some point throughout the year. They'd known each other for over ten years, it was just what they did, as long as neither of them were involved with anyone else.

'It's like exercise that, isn't it? You don't need to woo a treadmill.'

'I don't know whether to be as offended as I think I should be, or just agree with you so you never use the word “woo” again,' Akaashi replied flatly.

By this time, Tall Dumbass had put Ginger Dumbass back down, and they stood stiffly next to each other, until Tall Dumbass passed the other one a carton of something, making him blush.

Ennoshita nudged him to see the interaction, but Akaashi was forging his way to the front. 'Come on, I need to be closer to get pictures.'

The band hadn't started yet, but Akaashi could already see the dim circle glowing on the end of Ennoshita's light up pen.

'Who's the support?' he asked, pausing in his note taking.

'They're called Carnal Trash. Some sort of bratty punk thing. Probably shit.' Ennoshita made a few more notes, and Akaashi carried on scouting for good viewpoints for photographs.

Akaashi spotted Konoha hanging over the front rail, who put a finger to his lips. 'Don't tell Daichi. I just didn't want to review it.' He nodded his head to the side as explanation, and Akaashi looked around him to see someone he recognised, but couldn't figure out where from. Konoha leant closer to his ear to say, 'Yukie. From the cafe.'

Just then, Konoha's eyes opened wider, and he seemed to notice Ennoshita for the first time. 'Fucking hell! What happened to Chikara?'

'Oh, Noya hit him with a skateboard.'

Konoha rolled his eyes. 'I know about that! I mean... ' He pointed a finger at Ennoshita, and circled his face and hair, 'All this.' Ennoshita looked up briefly, before looking back down at his notepad, expression unchanging.

'You've never seen him in contacts?'

'It's not just that though. I can see his face! I didn't recognise him. I thought you had some new hot piece of ass.'

Akaashi took another look at Ennoshita. He agreed he looked different, but he was used to seeing him without his glasses, and as they shared a flat, he often saw him with his hair scraped back off his forehead when it was wet.

'Nah, it's just Chikara,' he finally decided. 'He's always been a hot piece of ass.'

At this, Ennoshita revealed he had been listening all along, by looking up and grinning. Then he caught sight of something over Akaashi's shoulder, and nudged him, saying, 'You owe me a pint.'

Akaashi looked to where he was nodding, and saw The Dumbasses again, this time, the ginger one was crushed between the taller one and the front railing, sucking on his neck while the taller one leaned into him with his eyes closed.

'That doesn't mean they're dating,' Akaashi said turning away.

'Was that the bet? It was that they're a couple, wasn't it?' He pointed again at The Dumbasses and cocked his head at Akaashi while raising his eyebrows.

'You were kissing my neck the other night, doesn't make us a couple.'

'Urgh, whatever. I still win.'

Konoha looked at both of them. 'Wait, are you two back together?'

Before either could say anything, the lights went down and the band came out, meaning they could both avoid having to answer at all.

First onto the stage was a lanky blonde with glasses, a sneer branded across his face. His jeans were faded blue and tight, and he wore a waistcoat over a dinosaur print t-shirt. He picked up the bass, slinging it low on his hips, and started tuning up.

Next to walk on, or more like swagger, was a similarly lanky figure in dark tight jeans, this time with a black collared shirt, tight on his torso and rolled up to the elbows. His black hair hung over one side of his face in a series of points, and as he picked up his guitar, Akaashi could see tattoos on his arms. His mouth was turned up at one side, as he waved to the whistles and hoots in the crowd.

It seemed the hoots were also for someone he couldn't quite see, as they got louder at the sound of a tinging cymbal. Akaashi leant to the side so he could see around the speaker stack, and after seeing the drummer, he decided he had to move into a new position, unsure he could take his eyes off him even if he wanted to.

There was nothing like seeing a good drummer performing, and he could just tell this was going to be an amazing performance. Something about his energy immediately pulled Akaashi in to watching him. He was shirtless, he could have been naked for all Akaashi knew, it was impossible to see his legs behind the drum kit. He was responding to the hoots of the crowd by putting his arms upwards into a V, and crossing his drumsticks over his head. A smile of pure enjoyment was etched across his face, the kind that wasn't usually far from the mouth of someone like that. This was going to be entertaining.

The drummer had seemed to be waiting for something, poised for some kind of cue which finally came; he nodded off to the side of the stage, and then counted out four beats on the drumsticks, shouting the numbers at the top of his voice. The singer leapt onto the stage, landing exactly as the song started.

He had light grey hair in a short bob, and was wearing a vest with very wide armholes, hanging so low at the sides he might as well have been shirtless. His trousers were tight, red, and made of some kind of shiny material, possibly leather. They didn't reach his ankles, no doubt because the man was over six feet, maybe even seven. His height seemed to be mainly arms and legs, and the way he jumped around, throwing them away from his torso, Akaashi was concerned for the health of the audience, let alone the rest of the band.

What they lacked in finesse, they made up for in enthusiasm, and the crowd seemed to be getting into the spirit of it. The familiar jostle had begun at the front, and Ennoshita had already retreated over to one side to avoid getting his pen nudged. Konoha was holding onto Yukie with one arm, the other one pointing towards the stage in time with the beat.

Akaashi decided to get the photographs out of the way so he could enjoy the spectacle without thinking about work. It was easy enough to get a photo of the bassist, who hardly moved once he was steady in his wide legged stance, while the guitarist actively came over to pose, winking suggestively and licking his lips. It was quite impossible to catch the singer still long enough for a photo, so he changed his shutter speed, and went for something more arty. He tried to catch him jumping, with the focal point on the drummer instead. Just because it made a nice composition. Not for any other reason.

–

Terushima couldn't be bothered watching the support. It was probably the usual group of white male shitheads thinking they could play instruments. A cursory glance at the stage seemed to confirm this, so he wandered over to get a drink. Seeing Daishou, he immediately regretted it, and tried to get away as quickly as possible. Everyone who knew Daishou knew he was a scheming, filthy pest, and unfortunately for Terushima, they knew each other as he was the one who cut his blue hair into that swooping fringe.

Luckily for him, however, Daishou seemed more interested in someone on the other side of the bar, and he quickly opened the bottle of beer and passed it to Terushima, without even picking up the money offered to him. Instead, Terushima slapped it down on the bar surface, and walked off swigging from the bottle.

'Hey! Weren't you going to even say hello?' He felt a tug on his shirt and turned around to see the person Daishou had been chatting to, and with a look just behind and to the right, he could see the bartender looking confused.

'Ennoshita! Sorry, it took me a minute.'

'I know, usually I'm squinting at you with my hair in a stupid position.' He turned his head to the side, putting a palm against it. 'Did I do a good job styling it?'

'You did! It looks great.' He scanned downwards, taking in his outfit. What he was wearing wasn't too different from his normal clothes, but the blue checked shirt was a slightly bolder choice than usual. ' _You_ look great,' he corrected himself.

'Oh, thanks! Yeah I went shopping after work yesterday. Just felt like it.' He pulled at his collar a little. 'I'm not used to this really, if I'm honest.'

'I think you should try and get used to it, it's a good look on you.'

'I take that as a massive compliment coming from someone with dress sense like yours.' They both looked down at his paisley printed shirt. 'Although I think you forgot some buttons.'

Ennoshita put his drink on a nearby table, and reached his hands out towards Terushima's chest. He started doing up the fourth button from the top, where Terushima was in the habit of purposely leaving his shirts open. As he concentrated on the button, working it into the unused hole, Terushima tried not to think about the fingers almost brushing his chest, and attempted to concentrate instead on the cuts on Ennoshita's face. They were healing nicely, he noted, ignoring the lump in his throat.

Once Ennoshita had finished doing up two buttons, he tapped his fingers lightly against them twice, saying, 'Much better. You were looking a bit Harry Styles then.'

'Oh no, that would have been awful,' Terushima said with sarcasm.

Ennoshita picked up his drink, and clinked it against the other's bottle. 'Well, better get back to work. Akaashi's down there somewhere, taking photos of... well, mainly the drummer I think. See you at the after party?'

'Urm, yeah, that'd be nice.'

Ennoshita waved, leaving Terushima watching him walk off; he found Akaashi, and threw an arm around his shoulder, jumping with the music and laughing.

He'd never seen him outside of the salon, but he was beginning to see what Saeko had meant. He was always easy enough to talk to, but his protective shell was somehow not as thick as he'd imagined. Smiles escaped more easily, hands crossed over into other people's personal space more freely.

He went back to the bar to get another beer, and found Daishou was still looking at him.

'You know that guy?' he said as he uncapped the bottle.

'Yeah. He's a client.'

'He's fucking adorable.'

Terushima paused, and found him again on the edge of the crowd. He could just make him out by the disc of light on his notepad.

'Yeah. He is.'

–

Although he didn't want to admit it, Carnal Trash were actually a lot of fun to watch. All four of them, except perhaps the bassist, seemed to be having the time of their lives, especially the singer. Their sound was unexpected, rooted firmly in old school punk, but with undeniably more sense of humour. About half the songs were covers, including one by Talking Heads which really surprised him. They were all fairly obscure tracks, and Ennoshita suspected a lot of people wouldn't know the originals; then again, for all he knew every single song was a cover, and he just didn't recognise them all himself.

At one point, Akaashi had turned and beamed at him, as the opening chords of his favourite Flaming Lips song started up. It wasn't every day Akaashi joined in with the jumping up and down at gigs, usually preferring to hover around the edges taking photographs, but he sang every word at the top of his voice, sweating and happy when it finished.

'They're pretty good, right?' he shouted into Ennoshita's ear.

He nodded enthusiastically, shouting back, 'Good drummer,' before giving him a knowing look.

Akaashi ignored him, and went back to jumping up and down and pretending to look at something other than the drummer's arms. Ennoshita just smiled, and walked back off to the side of the room to carry on making notes, including ' _fantastic_ drummer'.

There were only a couple of songs left, just a short support set before the main act. The final song was slower than the rest, and one he recognised, but wasn't sure who it was by. Now the frenetic drumming and guitar was quieter, he could hear the singer had a more soulful voice than he'd been able to showcase with the faster tracks, and as he leaned into the microphone stand, cradling it in his hands, there was a hush across the crowd. When the final chords rung through the room, his skin was flush with goosebumps, and it seemed to have similarly affected Akaashi, who looked over, mouthing a 'Wow'.

The lights came up as the band wandered off, the shouting and cheering twice as loud as that which they'd come on to. Roadies started changing over the kit, and most of the crowd went to get drinks, go outside to smoke, or to use the toilet.

Ennoshita searched and found a chair, just one, so he sat down and pulled Akaashi onto his knee; he leaned his notebook on his back to write, while Akaashi fiddled with his camera checking the photographs he'd already taken. It was such a familiar activity that happened when they both went reviewing together, neither of them thought much about it any more, but Konoha had noticed and was raising an eyebrow.

'What's all this?'

Akaashi looked up. 'What's what?'

'Are you back together?' he asked again.

Akaashi huffed. 'Don't be daft. We're just resting for the second half.'

'Yeah, like a volleyball match.' Ennoshita agreed, without looking up.

'What's with all the sport talk tonight?' Akaashi asked, but Ennoshita just carried on writing, with a brief smile.

Konoha shrugged, and put his arm around Yukie, steering her towards the bar. They sat there in silence, carrying on with their little chores, but it didn't take long for Akaashi's fingers to stop fiddling with the camera, and he stared out towards the stage.

He nudged his elbow into Ennoshita's chest. 'Hey.'

'Ow! What?' he said, rubbing where the sharp elbow had hit him.

'Is this weird? What we do?'

'Working for a magazine?'

'No, you twat. Sitting like this. Me on your knee.'

Ennoshita pushed his notebook and pen into the top pocket of his shirt, and considered the question. He'd never thought it was weird, they'd known each other since they were children, and as Akaashi was the lighter of the two, he often sat on him if there was only one chair.

However, Konoha's expression had given his pause for thought, and it seemed it was troubling Akaashi as well.

'If it bothers you, we can stop.'

He shifted uncomfortably in his lap. 'It's not me. It's what everyone else thinks.'

'It's never bothered you what other people think before.'

'I know, but... what if they think we're a couple. Like we do with The Dumbasses.' He looked down at his hands as he started twisting them in his lap.

Ennoshita paused, eyes searching his friend. He wanted to give this proper thought before answering, as Akaashi's face was screwed into even deeper thought than usual. It wasn't because he didn't want people to know he was gay, he knew that for a fact; he'd kissed men in this venue more than once, including Ennoshita, meaning it also couldn't be shame at someone thinking he was going out with him in particular.

'You don't want people to think you're not single? Is that it?' A twitch of Akaashi's face told him he was close to the truth. 'Ah. The drummer.'

'Not...necessarily. I was just... '

'If it helps at all, he's not going to see us here. And I'll stay away from you at the after party, OK?'

Akaashi gave a small smile, and looked back at him. 'Thanks. I mean, nothing will probably happen, but, you never know, right?'

–

Small Giant came onto the stage just after nine. Terushima smiled in recognition upon seeing Saeko's hair bobbing across the front, followed by another, taller, woman. They both wore identical purple dresses and striped leggings, with the same hair, just in a darker brown.

They both stood centre stage, Saeko to the right of a microphone stand, in front of a small electric drum set-up, and another woman to the left, with a keyboard. At the top of the stand were two mikes, pointing in different directions so one was in position for Saeko, and one for the other. Shortly afterwards, three men came on and arranged themselves in a semi circle around the two women; they all had a similar short fringed hair cut, with slight differences, and were also all wearing the same striped t-shirt and dark jeans. On the right was a tall man with hair falling in a centre parting, with a bass almost at his knees; on the left a shorter man was holding a guitar, with a sharper asymmetric fringe, and a feather boa. The man standing at the back behind a keyboard had fluffier, lighter coloured hair and sunglasses. The others looked to him, and he counted them all into the first track.

Terushima was familiar with Small Giant's performances, and immediately recognised the song as the one they opened every show with; a cover of 'Gangsters' by The Specials. Immediately, the crowd, moved as one, a sea of bodies undulating in time with the beat. Everyone was familiar with the song, whether they knew Small Giant or not, it was one reason why they chose to open with it. It was slightly faster than the original, with both women providing vocals, harmonising in their different registers.

They might not have had Carnal Trash's energy, but the unusual arrangement of band members, and interaction between the members, made them absorbing to watch; it was clear the driving force behind the band was the keyboard player, conducting their performance mostly with hand signals and shouted numbers.

They didn't play any more covers, sticking to original tracks, all with the same ska sensibilities. Even at the outer edge of the crowd where Terushima was standing, people were moving in time with the syncopated beat, even if it was just a head bob or a foot tap. Their music was infectious, spreading to the far reaches of their audience by the time they reached their finale.

The whole hour long set was mere background noise to Terushima. He couldn't concentrate on anything but his racing thoughts, his usual positive attitude obliterated as he struggled to make sense of how he felt about what he'd seen across the crowd.

Just before the set started, he'd watched while Akaashi sat on Ennoshita's knee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who wants to imagine what the two bands are like playing live, I used the video for 'Slither' by Velvet Revolver as inspiration for Carnal Trash, and a live performance of 'Genevieve' by Lucius for Small Giant. Weirdly, they have almost the same drum beat, but I didn't do that on purpose.
> 
> If you haven't ever seen Lucius before, they're one of my favourite bands, and they're basically all percussionists, it's incredible to see live. Small Giant don't sound like Lucius though; they're often likened to No Doubt by lazy journalists, and it gets on their nerves, because they see themselves more as second wave than third wave of ska. Yahaba is the main driving force behind the band, and his hero is Jerry Dammers of The Specials (Saeko's is Polly Styrene of X-Ray Spex, Konoka's is Debbie Harry of Blondie, Futakuchi's is Peter Hook of New Order, Shirabu's is Richey Edwards of Manic Street Preachers, just in case you're curious about the rest of them). 
> 
> Carnal Trash aren't too far off Velvet Revolver, but they're probably a bit more like Dinosaur Jnr/Warlock Pinchers/Mudhoney/Shudder to Think, basically the kind of 90s skate music that I remember listening to when I was 16, pre-Nirvana grunge, with a sense of humour. Skateboarders probably listen to totally different stuff now, or you know, maybe there isn't even such a thing as 'skate music' like they had in record shops in Cambridge I used to go to. Lev is based on Paul Smith of Maximo Park, because he jumps a lot and smiles when they play live. (Kuroo is like Josh Homme of Queens of the Stone Age, Tsukki is like Dee Dee Ramone, and Bokuto is based on Travis Barker of Blink 182 - I have drawings of both bands on my tumblr)
> 
> Akaashi's favourite Flaming Lips song is 'She Don't Use Jelly' by the way. The Talking Heads cover is 'Wild Wild Life' – I read someone else's head canon that Ennoshita probably loves Talking Heads, and I absolutely agree, they'd be his favourite band. I really think he'd like wanky art music. Other songs I thought Carnal Trash might cover are 'Map Ref 41N 93W' by Wire, 'Lump' by Presidents of the USA, or maybe even 'Chicken Payback' by The Bees. I can also no longer watch the video for that song, because it has a man in it who is just Noya in my head now (it's in the playlist). The final song which gives Ennoshita goosebumps is 'Love Rears Its Ugly Head' by Living Colour.
> 
> The Junction is, or at least was, a real venue in Cambridge where I spent a lot of my youth. We had code names for everyone we saw there, including a Gabriel. Weirdly, we then met someone who was actually called Gabriel (and his friend Rupert, they were the poshest people I ever met, and ran an industrial metal night at a club). I hadn't mentioned where this is set yet, but it's definitely Cambridge, that's what I've been picturing the whole time.


	5. I Could Have Danced All Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone noticed the chapter titles yet? I'm just curious, as I feel this one is the most obvious clue

'You little shits!'

The door banged against the wall as Ennoshita stormed into the room. Tanaka jumped up from the sofa where he was watching TV, scattering tortilla chips all over the floor.

'Where is he? I want both of you here while I shout so I don't have to do it twice.'

'He's out, you'll just have to wait,' said Tanaka, settling back down onto the seat now he knew the threat wasn't anything more serious than his pissed off friend.

'Nope. I know what you're trying to do. If I don't yell at you now, I'll calm down and shrug it off. And you get away with it.'

'What did we do this weekend that pissed you off so much?'

He put his hands on his hips, and stared at Tanaka. 'What do _you_ think?'

'I dunno, dude, did a lot of stupid stuff. Could be anything.' He poured the remaining chips into his mouth from the bag, spilling them all over his white vest.

'Oh for fuck's sake.' He walked off through the rest of the house shouting Noya's name.

'He's not here!' Tanaka shouted over his shoulder. 'Why'd you never believe me?'

Ennoshita banged open both bedroom doors, grunting in irritation at finding every room empty. He stomped back to the living room, and stood in front of Tanaka. 'Right, I'm going to shout now. While I'm angry.' He pointed at him. 'Stop laughing at me.'

Tanaka was sniggering behind his hand. 'Sorry, you're just so funny when you're angry. Ok, Ok, I'm listening. What'd I do?'

'The video! Which you know anyway, you bastard.' He fell onto the sofa next to Tanaka, some of his ire already fading. 'You could have told me.' He was still annoyed enough to punch his arm, but only just.

'Ah, yeah. We probably should have mentioned that. Sorry.'

'Before the concert would have been good. Most people at the after party had seen it before I did.'

*

After the concert, they hung around at the front of the stage, waiting for the crowd to dissipate, or the bands to finish up and come out, whichever came first. Ennoshita wasn't the type to go backstage, even though he knew he could probably use his job as an excuse; performers needed time to come down, and he wasn't in any particular rush.

The first to emerge was the tall lead singer of the support act, ducking very slightly to get through the doorway. He had an arm loosely on the shoulder of a red haired man, at least a foot shorter, who both he and Akaashi already knew.

'Yaku!' Akaashi was already shouting him over, but he'd stopped in his tracks, his face flushing. He shrugged off the taller man's arm, and walked towards them.

'Oh, hey. I didn't realise you would be here.' Ennoshita wasn't sure if he meant still hanging around at the venue, or just at the concert at all, but decided not to bother asking which. Yaku was clearly embarrassed in some way, and he suspected it was to do with the lumbering man in leather trousers making his way to join them.

'Hey! Are these friends of yours?' He took Akaashi's hand and starting pumping it up and down, before moving on to Ennoshita. 'Nice to meet you both. I'm Lev.'

Yaku kicked his ankle, but gave no further comment.

'Urm, good to meet you, Lev. Am I saying that right?'

'Close enough.' His smile seemed so large, it was probably bigger than Ennoshita's hand span. 'You seem really familiar. Has Yasha introduced us before? I'm kind of forgetful.'

Ennoshita looked over at Akaashi and they both mouthed, 'Yasha?' at each other.

'No, Lev, you haven't met him before.' He sighed, obviously picking up on the confusion of the other two. 'This is Ennoshita and Akaashi, I work with them at the magazine.'

'Oh cool! You're doing the review then? Hope you enjoyed it?'

'It was really great, yeah. Don't take this the wrong way, but was it all covers?' Ennoshita asked.

'Yep! That's our thing. Unexpected cover versions.' His green eyes sparkled, full of pride.

'Thought so, just wanted to check before writing.' He took out his pad, making a quick note. 'I didn't recognise them all, but that last one was really something else.'

Lev's smile became softer, but his eyes were still bright as he thanked him in a whisper. Then he suddenly perked up, and said, 'Oh wait! I know where I've seen you! Noya's video!' He turned and looked at Yaku, who was scowling back at him.

'Come on,' he said, tugging Lev away from them both. 'You two coming backstage?'

'If that's OK?' Akaashi said, getting a wave from Yaku.

Ennoshita already had his phone out, opening the YouTube channel for Noya and Tanaka, and found the offending video. Usually he did all the video editing for them, but because of his headache, Tanaka had kindly offered to do it himself for once. He was already regretting allowing this as he opened it up.

_It started with one of the takes where Noya and Tanaka managed to perform the trick without the high five. It then progressed to the take where Ennoshita was hit by the skateboard. It had captured the moment surprisingly well, including a comedic 'Ooof' coming from the cameraman, and then a tilting view as he fell and the camera went sideways with him._

_It then shifted to the hospital, with the camera held at arm's length by Noya, with Tanaka also in the_ _frame._

_'We had to bring our boy to A &E, but I don't think he minds. They gave him some drugs, and he's much happier.'_

_The camera angle shifted as Noya spun it around to face Ennoshita, lying in the bed, half awake. He was mumbling a little. Then the scene cut to a closer shot of Ennoshita, this time Asahi was also in the frame, with a hand on his shoulder._

_Ennoshita watched as he leaned towards Asahi, with what could only be described as bedroom eyes, flirting with him, imploring him to take him home. He then reassured him that he was 'good' and that he had 'nice hands'._

_The video cut out as Noya started saying, 'Oh my god.'_

'Well, that's just brilliant.'

Akaashi had been standing behind him watching over his shoulder, and was now leaning his forehead against his back, shaking with laughter.

*

'So how many people recognised you?'

'Well, as it turns out, only Carnal Trash had watched it. I blame their bassist. I walked in and he just snorted.'

Tanaka put a hand on his friend's shoulder, and looked at him in earnest. 'Sorry, Chikara, I really am. It's not that bad though, is it? I mean, Noya's not bothered, and Asahi was only embarrassed for a few hours.'

Ennoshita sighed. 'I suppose not. In the grand scheme of things.'

*

'Fantastic set,' Ennoshita said, Akaashi standing silently to his side. 'Great use of covers.'

A large hand slapped him on the back, as the other one wiped a towel across his face. 'Thanks, pal! Means a lot when people like what we do. Lot of people think covers is cheating, but the arrangements make or break it. Tsukki is the brains.' He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb at their bassist who'd laughed at Ennoshita as he walked in.

'Akaashi was really happy to hear that Flaming Lips song.' He nudged him in the side, but he still didn't speak. 'Not often you hear that covered.'

'Oh yeah?' The attention of the drummer, who'd introduced himself as Bokuto, was drawn to Akaashi. 'I'd never heard it before, that was definitely Tsukki. I like it though. Any song about dyeing your hair with tangerines is fine by me.' His smile was broad, although he was still squinting a bit from the sweat running from his hair.

'Or blowing your nose on a magazine,' Akaashi finally spoke.

Bokuto laughed, and it was one of the loudest sounds Ennoshita had ever heard. He looked over at his friend, who seemed visibly stunned to have caused such a raucous laugh, although it soon gave way to a tiny, shy smile.

It wasn't perfect, but now Ennoshita knew he wasn't just going to stand in silence, he offered to go and get them all a drink, leaving the other two talking through the lyrics to the song, seemingly unaware he'd even gone.

There was a small table covered in bottles, glasses, a bowl of ice, and a plate of fruit. It looked like it was probably the rider, so he assumed it was ok to take something off it. As he picked up a bottle of beer and started reading the label, a voice came from behind him.

'You allowed to take that?'

Ennoshita looked over his shoulder to see a tall figure in a striped top and jeans, a sneer on his lips. He turned back around, saying, 'I imagine so.'

'You're not wearing a pass.'

He looked down at his chest. 'Apparently not.'

The other man – he wasn't sure which of the headlining band he was, they all looked so similar anyway, especially dressed in the same outfit – realised Ennoshita wasn't going to turn around properly, and came round the table to face him.

'I don't remember seeing you on stage either.' His arms were crossed over his chest, and he looked down his nose. Ennoshita had been in this job too long to be intimidated by anyone, even if they were about four inches taller and looking at him like he was shit to be scraped off his shoes.

'That's because I'm a writer.' He took a swig of the beer. 'I'm reviewing your performance.'

'Oh yeah? What did you think?'

'I can't comment on the one on stage,' he paused, taking another swig, and staring him down, 'But this one is dull.'

He drained the bottle, picked up three more, and went back over to Akaashi.

*

'You met Futakuchi then,' Tanaka asked.

'Yeah.'

'He's a bit of a twat, isn't he?'

'A bit.'

*

His back was pressed against the door, and he heard it click shut. He felt behind him, moving the lock into position.

He tilted his head upwards, and the man with a hand pushing against his shoulder was still leaning over him, staring at him, right until the moment he closed the four inch height gap.

Futakuchi tasted of energy drinks, and kissed like a teenager, lips crashing against his clumsily, unrefined with want. Hands were running over each other erratically, and they moved away from the door, only for Ennoshita to push Futakuchi against a different wall.

Ennoshita licked into his mouth, at the same time working his hand under the striped shirt, and was rewarded with a satisfied moan. Their tongues slid together, and Futakuchi turned them around so Ennoshita was leaning against the wall again.

Futakuchi brought his knee up between his legs, giving Ennoshita something to grind his growing erection against. As he felt him move against him, Futakuchi moved his mouth down Ennoshita's neck, biting the muscle stretching as his head leant backwards.

He moved his way back up to Ennoshita's ear, whispering into it, 'Is this performance dull?'

Futakuchi was silenced with a, 'Shut the fuck up,' and a mouth roughly pressing against his.

*

'So you did it? In his dressing room?'

'A bit.'

 

–

 

He looked at his phone, sighed, and stuffed it back in his pocket where the new notification wasn't goading him. He couldn't deal with it right now. He schlepped through to his kitchen, and set up the coffee machine for a fresh pot, ready to try and enjoy his day off.

Morning light was streaming through the French doors leading onto Terushima's balcony. Usually the dappled light was inviting, but today it just reminded him of the shifting colour spots illuminating Ennoshita the night before.

The slow drip of coffee into the pot was like a metronome tracking the rhythm of his thoughts. He hadn't wanted a cigarette for months, but right now it was all he could think about.

He pulled out the drawer full of takeaway menus, envelopes and old keys, shifting the detritus from side to side in search of a stray packet of cigarettes. Instead, his hand felt a packet of Tic Tacs, so he flicked the plastic lid, and poured the whole pack into his mouth.

God, he hated those pointless, tiny pellets.

The coffee was ready, so he poured out a cup, adding some sugar, despite what he'd just eaten, and a good slug of milk. He took a sip, but it was too sweet, too milky, so he threw it angrily down the sink and started again, leaving it black. This cup would eventually be left forgotten anyway, as Terushima paced the house, ignoring that phone notification.

He plugged his phone in to charge, giving himself an excuse to leave it home while he went for a walk; past the village pond, thatched roofs peeking through trees along the bank. He walked all the way to the white bridge which spanned the narrowest area of the pond, and stood in the centre, watching the ducks swimming under it. There were two enormous trees at either end of the bridge, reflected beneath him.

If those stupid ducks hadn't been there, that reflection would be perfect.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there, but his rumbling stomach guessed he'd been awake long enough without food that wasn't bright orange bullets of sugar. There was a small pub on the way back to his flat, The Boot, who served lunch. He could get himself a sausage sandwich, a decent coffee, an hour away from himself.

He wasn't sure why, but he stamped his feet as he walked through under the arched doorway. There was something about a brick walled public house that made him feel like he was walking into the warmth out of the cold, regardless of the outside weather. The barmaid took his order, and he took the pint of bitter, why bother with coffee, over to a table by the display of pottery, glass and china boots displayed over the fireplace.

He changed his mind and moved, as the desire to throw the pint glass into the boots and break them all was too strong.

Eventually, he had to go home. There were only so many bites you could get from a sausage sandwich, and only so long he could avoid something.

The phone waited like a bear trap on his bedside table. He fell onto the bed, pushing his shoes off without untying them, and lay on his side with the phone in his hands. Time to unlock the screen and confront it.

 **From Bobata:** 'Takeharu showed me the photo of Ennoshita. I dunno how you did it, but I guess congratulations are in order.'

 **From Futamata:** 'Sooooo Daishou says someone got caught doing stuff last night in the dressing room during the party. Think that haircut worked LMAO.'

 **From Ennoshita:** 'Hey Yuuji, didn't see you at the party afterwards. Shame. Maybe next time?'

He couldn't help but feel vindicated by the first two messages, but the last one made him feel like he was the worst person in the world. Even though he didn't even know it, Ennoshita's trust in him was hanging in tatters, and part of him was just kicking himself for not being the one getting caught in that dressing room with him.

He wasn't sure exactly what his feelings for Ennoshita were, but one thing he was sure about was that they were more complicated than they used to be. He could blame Saeko for her words of approval, but really wasn't it all his own fault? Wasn't he the one who had felt terrible for no one noticing Ennoshita's good points in the first place?

He was reminded of something from a musical he performed in at school; the only difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how they behave, but how they're treated.

Ennoshita had been presented to him in a different light, highlighting the things about him he already possessed, and which Terushima now desired. The trouble was, he'd somehow helped to make other people aware of them as well, just by changing one of the things about him that wasn't even _him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to find a Russian speaker to help with the nickname for Yaku but to no avail. So if you read this and think 'Yasha is wrong' PLEASE tell me and I'll change it! It's a small detail but it's important to me (I googled and Yasha is a fond nickname for Yakov which is the closest I could find for either of Yaku's names)


	6. Spruced Up and Looking in my Prime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long, kind of involved chapter, slightly all over the place.

'What's up, tiger?' Suga said, slapping Ennoshita across his back. 'Let's see this hair.' He scooted round to look at him from the front. 'Ooh la la, I _knew_ there was a hottie under that mop.'

Ennoshita slapped Suga's hand away from his hair. 'What you after, Suga?'

'Looking for Akaashi. He's never here any more.'

Ennoshita turned his chair around. 'He's with Bokuto. Again.'

'Bokuto? I sense gossip.' He pulled the table over, and sat cross legged on it in front of Ennoshita, elbows on knees, chin resting on his hands. 'Spill.'

'He's the drummer of that band we went to see last month. Well, one of them. He's been seeing him for lunch most days.'

'Are they... Ya know.'

He considered this carefully. He didn't know for sure, but he thought Akaashi would probably have told him if anything other than stolen glances over vitamin enriched smoothies had occurred. 'I don't think so. He _definitely_ likes him though. More than I've ever seen.'

Despite keeping a generally stoic outward appearance, Akaashi was exhibiting a lot of telltale signs of being smitten with the drummer; bringing the topic of Bokuto into conversation at any available opportunity, staring off into space with a silly grin on his face, giggling after getting a text message alert. He wasn't sure of Bokuto's feelings, but he messaged daily for the whole two weeks he was away on tour, and the one time he saw them together, Bokuto had stared at Akaashi like he couldn't believe he was even in his vicinity, let alone knew who he was.

It was definitely only a matter of time, and then, he thought with affection for his friend getting everything he deserved, it would probably be for good.

'My boy is growing up! How about you, treasure? You got anyone?' Suga asked, tilting his head to one side.

'On and off.' He picked up some papers and pretended to read through them.

'Do tell. I like to live vicariously through my children.'

'Suga, you're only six months older than me.'

'What else am I going to do until Daichi notices I exist.' He put the back of his hand to his forehead, swooning dramatically.

He looked up from the papers, and peered at him over his glasses. 'He knows full well you exist, he's just not interested in fucking you.'

'So coarse' He grabbed the papers from Ennoshita, and threw them behind him. 'Stop pretending to read that. Tell me about this... thing.'

'There's not much to tell.' He got up, and retrieved the papers from the floor. They weren't important, and Suga knew that anyway, but he liked having the buffer to hide behind. 'We've seen each other a few times in the last month. He's ok. Bit of a prick, sometimes. Luckily, I'm used to being around pricks.'

'Is _he_ interested in fucking _you_?'

'He certainly seems to be,' he answered, without looking up from the papers as he piled them up, and banged the edge on the table to even them up.

'It's always the quiet ones isn't it?' Suga stood up and started pontificating. 'Look at me. Forever alone. _I am a meme!_ '

'You are a ridiculous trash bag.'

'So, does he have any single friends?'

'I thought you were hopelessly in love with Daichi?' he asked, looking up from the papers.

'I am! But he's harder work than I thought.'

Ennoshita took pity on him. 'There are two other men in the band with him. And one of the women is single.' He held up a hand as Suga opened his mouth. 'I have no idea if any of them are into men, before you ask.'

'When are you seeing him? Can we have a group date?'

'You know, that's not a bad idea. We could try and get Bokuto and Akaashi to come as well then, maybe invite Yamaguchi, Kenma. 'Course Yaku will probably come...' Ennoshita turned away from Suga, and gritted his teeth. Shit.

'Why 'course'?'

'Just, you know... if Kenma comes.'

'That's not what you meant. There's something I don't know.'

Suga had a kind of sixth sense about certain things, about everything if truth be told. There wasn't much you could get past him; luckily he was fairly discreet about most subjects, but unfortunately relationship gossip wasn't one of them. If he was smart, Ennoshita could distract him. He got out his phone, and performed the adult version of, 'Look, shiny object,' by opening the photo library and finding a picture of the keyboard player.

'Here's Yahaba. He's cute, right? I think he's single.'

'Oh, he's an evil muffin, I can tell.'

'They're all little shits. The men anyway.' He flicked the picture, and showed him a photo of the female drummer. 'Kanoka is too sweet for you.'

Suga pointed in the background at another figure. 'Oooh yes please, who's that?'

'That one's... mine.'

The words felt strange coming from his mouth when describing Futakuchi. He was certainly the man he was currently having sex with on a regular basis, but they didn't seem to have much else in common. It was definitely fun, he was unreasonably good in bed, but he'd meant it when he described him as 'a bit of a prick'.

Futakuchi would start arguments, a lot, almost like it was a hobby. Ennoshita was so easy going, it riled Futakuchi up when he didn't take the bait, and he would keep going. Eventually, Ennoshita would snap, and although he had a long fuse, at its very end it was connected to a volatile, although short-lived, explosion.

'So tall,' Suga said in awe. 'Going out with a musician. Must be kinda cool.'

'We never go out, though. It's just... snatched moments after gigs, really.' He was still looking at the photo on his phone, eyebrows crumpled in thought.

Suga looked at him properly then, sincerity flooding his face. His demeanour immediately switched, and he put a heavy hand on Ennoshita's shoulder, searching him with slightly narrowed eyes.

'He doesn't make you happy.' It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and as usual Suga was probably right.

'He doesn't make me _un_ happy though.'

'That's a very low bar to set for someone, sweetheart. Especially after a month.' He tightened the arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. 'I understand, it's all been fun. But now it's time to decide if that's enough.'

–

The first appointment after lunch wasn't due for another twenty minutes, but apprehension had already set in. He hadn't seen Ennoshita since the concert, had never responded to the text. It was only when the other man had telephoned him, requesting his services, that the one-sided stand-off was ended.

Terushima was more annoyed with himself than anything else. He often went six weeks without seeing or speaking to him, had done for the whole time he'd known him. This was no different.

He felt a pushing in the centre of his chest, heated and fluttering. Nerves. He had time to go to the toilet, splash some water, centre himself. It was only Ennoshita, after all.

He caught Hana's attention, and pointed upwards as she was on the phone. She nodded and carried on talking, so he went upstairs, and locked himself in the bathroom.

The need to go wasn't even urgent, and afterwards he sat on the lowered seat, hands on his knees, jiggling his legs up and down.

He talked himself through the plan for the next hour to assuage all possible reasons for feeling guilty when he thought about Ennoshita; first, tell him he wasn't using the photo for his portfolio, offhandedly. Explain what happened after the concert, he'd had to leave early because of... a phone call? Illness? Yes, that would stop further questioning. Then just talk normally, as usual, and give him a haircut, as always. Nothing unusual here.

He could hear footsteps on the stairs through the wall, Bobata must have come back from his sandwich run. He stood up, flushed the toilet, and then washed his hands. He allowed the water to pool in his cupped palms, and threw it at his face.

There was a quiet knock on the door. 'Just a sec,' he shouted through, and listened as the footsteps retreated. He dried his face and hands, and looked in the mirror, telling himself to stop being stupid.

Back on the landing, he saw some movement in Bobata's room, and assuming he was right in thinking it was him who had knocked on the door, he walked in, saying, 'I'm done now.'

'Oh hi,' Ennoshita said. 'Sorry, I didn't realise you were in there, Hana was on the phone, I just came up.'

He'd been expecting him, and yet he hadn't, and now there he was, and everything had suddenly got too warm.

'Oh. Hey. Thought you were Bobata.'

'He won't mind me being here, will he? I've just... never been in here.' He peered in more closely at a poster explaining the different positions for ear piercings.

'He won't mind.' The hot feeling in his chest was getting worse. 'I'm not using your photo in my portfolio.' He wasn't sure why he said that, but he blamed the burning.

'Oh, ok. I'd forgotten all about it to be honest.' He pointed to the bar through the shell of the ear on the picture. 'Do these hurt?'

Terushima went closer to see better which piercing he meant. 'The scaffold? I don't know really. You'd have to ask Bobata. I only have these.' He touched his fingers to his ears where a black stud sat in each lobe.

'I imagine it would be hard to sleep. I lie on my side.' He ran a finger along his ear, as if imagining where the metal bar would press into him.

'You thinking of getting a piercing?'

'Maybe.' He carried on looking at diagrams on the walls.

'I'm sorry I didn't reply to your message.' Apparently Terushima's brain was working its way through his list as quickly as possible in the hope that things would return to normal. The air was cloying with unfamiliarity.

'Hmm?' Ennoshita looked over at him.

'I went home early after the concert. That's why I didn't see you at the after party.'

'Oh that,' he said, turning and smiling at Terushima. 'Yeah, I was looking forward to a chat away from here. Get to know you a bit better.'

The words made him feel more at ease, and he found he could return a smile slightly more easily, before Ennoshita moved his attention to the glass display case full of studs, rings and other body jewellery. He could see the other man's eyes reflected in the glass, and looked away when they flicked up and caught his own eyes again.

He slapped his hands together with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, and although it still sounded fake, he tried to make his voice cherry. 'Right! I'll wait downstairs for you.'

When he looked back just before walking down the stairs, Ennoshita was still watching him.

–

Ennoshita was glad to see that by the time he got downstairs, Terushima seemed less fidgety. He was curious to know if he was feeling alright, but didn't want to pry, and hoped letting him know he'd missed him at the concert might make him seem more friendly.

Terushima looked up with an artificial smile, and turned the chair for Ennoshita to sit down. He put the cape around his shoulders, and asked, 'You need it washing?'

'It's fine, I washed it before I came.'

The usual spritzing and combing began, but he could feel a tremor in Terushima's movements. Whatever had been wrong seemed to still be lying somewhere under the surface of his skin. He made an effort to make Terushima less uncomfortable.

'So I'm used to this style now, I like it off my face. It's a bit of a pain when I've been wearing my bike helmet. I get the worst helmet hair. I've had to start carrying around pomade.'

'Yeah?' He'd picked up his scissors and started the laborious process of cutting the sides and back to the same, short length. Ennoshita couldn't help but think it would be a lot quicker shaving, but he wasn't in a hurry to tell him how to do his job.

'I've still got the tin you gave me. It lasts ages doesn't it? Where can I buy it when it runs out, you sell it here?'

'I get it online.'

'Ah right.' Terushima carried on snipping away, never taking his eyes from his head. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he didn't look like his usual self.

Ennoshita took a minute, trying to think of something to say to fill the awkward silence. Normally it wouldn't bother him, but Terushima wasn't the silent type. He hurriedly thought back to the newspaper he'd read that morning, searching his memory for anything from it he could bring up.

In desperation, he said, 'Did you know Napoleon's favourite horse was called Marengo? He rode him at the Battle of Waterloo. When he died, the English made his hooves into ashtrays.'

Terushima stopped cutting, stood up straight, and stared right at him. His face then broke into a fit of giggles, which slowly developed into that strange, silent hysteria which occurs when something amuses you unexpectedly. His shoulders shook, and his nose wrinkled.

'What kind of thing to say is that?' he eventually croaked out. 'Jesus, you really shouldn't be allowed to make conversation.'

The air between them had cleared, and despite what Terushima said, Ennoshita was glad he'd made the effort. His face was less creased, and there was still a hint of a chuckle as he worked.

'Got any plans for the weekend?' Terushima said, loosening into his usual small talk.

'We're going out on Saturday. Cheap drinks and dancing at Route 66.'

A real smile tugged at the corner of his mouth finally. 'God, I haven't been there in years! What's the occasion?'

'Just a night out. There's a few of us going, we're just trying to get Akaashi and Bokuto to admit they like each other.'

Terushima stopped cutting his hair again. 'Bokuto?'

'Oh, he's that drummer, remember? Akaashi has been seeing him, just as mates, but they're both into the other but haven't said anything. It's so infuriating.'

The scissors were still, and he was looking at him through the mirror, as if trying to work something out. 'I thought... never mind.' Terushima started cutting his hair again.

'What?'

'It's nothing. I just...' He trailed off again.

'Come on! What? Do you know something?'

'Nothing like that.' He sighed. 'Well, I thought you two were together, to be honest.' He bent behind his head and started to cut the hair at the back, despite being nowhere near it a moment ago.

'What made you think that?'

'You're always together, well, you _live_ together. He sits on your knee. You know.'

He was definitely not going to tell Akaashi about this, at least not until after things were sorted with Bokuto, not least because he would be insufferable when he found out he was right about the impression their seating arrangements would give people.

'We're just friends,' he said, softly, 'We've known each other for years. We're like brothers more than anything.' He felt a stab of something when he remembered they'd slept together fairly recently. 'Well, not brothers exactly. But anyway, we're both single.'

At this, he looked surprised. 'You're single? Oh, right. I heard... never mind.' He looked embarrassed at his admission, and suddenly the weird atmosphere seemed to make some sense.

'Ah. You heard about the thing at The Junction.' A cursory glance up at Terushima confirmed this suspicion. 'Yeah, that was embarrassing, but it wasn't Akaashi. I can't believe how word gets around this town. Fucking Daishou.'

'Yeah. No one has any secrets around here, do they?' he said, shaking his head.

'I think everyone still keeps their real secrets hidden. We all just gossip about music and skating and sex. I don't think any of us really know each other that well.'

'Maybe not,' he spoke quietly as he started cutting his hair again. The silence pervaded, but had become easier, more like the usual light pauses they were used to sharing.

In the peace, he studied Terushima, and tried to recall what he really knew about him. In the three years he'd been cutting his hair, he'd never revealed much of himself. He knew he was born in the area, and hadn't moved to the city for university, like himself and Akaashi. He holidayed abroad, coming back suntanned with stories of beach volleyball and going swimming while intoxicated, but he had no idea who he went away with.

He seemed like he would be fun to hang out with; he was always trying to make Ennoshita laugh during appointments. However, he seemed intelligent and thoughtful too, drip feeding little facts into the conversation.

Getting to know Terushima and spending time with him suddenly appealed to Ennoshita, and he acted on instinct.

'Why don't you come out with us on Saturday? I mean, there'll be a few of us, you said you hadn't been for years.'

The question obviously surprised him, as his immediate response was to choke out, 'Why?'

'Why not? We know a lot of the same people, some of them might even be there, I'm not sure who's coming yet.'

'Maybe... I might. I'll think about it.'

He still looked uncomfortable, so Ennoshita spread his hands up. 'Open invite. Route 66 at nine, if you're up for it. No pressure.'

The tentative hand of friendship was extended, and the film-maker in him couldn't help but feel the frisson of returning to the scene of their first meeting years before.

–

Terushima had gone backwards and forwards over what to do about Saturday so often he made himself dizzy. More than once, he'd thought about discussing it with Bobata and Futamata, but that would mean talking about feelings, something Terushima struggled with.

He knew they'd be open to talking, if he wanted to, but relationships weren't something they'd ever talked about. Sex, one night stands, people they would shag, these were all open season. Unfamiliar and changing feelings for someone you saw every six weeks, well, they would all be out of their depth.

In the end, he decided to talk to Hana, which had been so unexpectedly weird, he was glad he didn't bother talking to the other two.

'I don't want to talk about you Ennoshita,' she had said after he finally stuttered out the reason for asking for her help. There was a finality to her tone, but he persisted.

'But I really need to talk to someone. I don't know who else.'

She had looked pained as she said, 'Anyone but me. Please.' And that was the end of it.

So it was he found himself on a street which had been so familiar in what seemed like another lifetime, scanning the line and finding no sign of either Ennoshita or Akaashi or anyone else he recognised. He checked his phone, and as it was already nine thirty, he assumed they were inside already, and joined the queue.

It moved quickly enough, and despite them almost not letting him in as he was a man on his own, he persuaded them with a casual, 'My friends are inside.'

Inside, it hadn't changed since his last visit. The dark staircase leading upwards was still lined with signed posters for bands who had played here, although the size of the club meant they were all unknown local bands, hardly any of which had gone on to become famous.

Pockets of people crowded around the edges of the room housing the bar, sprawling across stained sofas, circled around tables cluttered with glasses. There was no one he recognised, and everyone looked ten years younger than him. He ordered a cheap bottle of something fruity, alcohol laced, and neon blue, and carried on searching for familiarity.

He was just about to get out his phone and try calling Ennoshita, when he saw Akaashi's head bobbing in the distance. He forced his way towards where he saw him, and found an alcove they'd claimed for the large group he was a part of. In the time it had taken for Terushima to reach them, he'd already settled on the lap of a large man, with spiked hair, perching on a stool. Akaashi was sipping his drink, while his companion hung onto his waist and leant over to talk to someone with pointy dark hair he vaguely recognised.

'Hey,' he said, touching his shoulder lightly, and leaning into his ear.

'Hi! Chikara said you might be coming.' He seemed genuinely pleased to see him, and leant closely to him in order to be heard over the music. The man he was sitting on glanced over, smiled, and carried on chatting to his friend.

'Is he here?' There were about eight people gathered around the table, but he didn't seem to know anyone.

He pointed at the other people around the table. 'These are work friends, and then these are Bokuto's bandmates. Then that's Suga, he's … just Suga. Oh, and this is Bokuto,' he said, pointing at the man he was sitting on.

Bokuto heard his name, and turned around with a grin. 'Hey hey! What's up?'

Akaashi leant towards Bokuto's ear, and Terushima assumed he was explaining who he was, as Bokuto then shouted, 'Hi, Terushima! I'm Keiji's boyfriend!' with elongated vowels at the top of his voice.

Akaashi winced and said, 'Bokuto, please. I'm right here.'

'Sorry,' he said, and noisily kissed the side of his face. Akaashi wiped his cheek, but smiled as he did so.

'Shall we move 'round so you can sit down?' the man next to Bokuto asked him, starting to shuffle.

'No it's fine, I'm going to look for Ennoshita,' he shouted back, and then asked, 'Where is he?'

'Where do you think he is?' The man Akaashi had referred to as Suga came over, slinging an arm around him and shouting in his ear. 'He's dancing!' He then grabbed his shoulders, and turned him towards the dancefloor, where Ennoshita was dancing in a circle with three other people; one incredibly tall with grey hair, one with green hair stuck up at the crown in a huge cowlick, the third a woman, much shorter than the men, with a blonde bob.

Ennoshita looked incredible; he was wearing a fitted shirt, with short sleeves, completely white except for a band of colour around one sleeve, and partway across his chest. It was tucked loosely into slim fitting navy trousers, brown and white brogues poking out from the hem. His face was glowing as he sang along to the lyrics, and every movement was perfectly timed with the music. He was smiling at his friends, also all singing along, everyone's cheeks pink, occasionally pointing at each other.

The joy in his face was the final straw for Terushima's resolve.

It wasn't enough that he knew exactly how to make him feel better earlier in the week during his haircut, or that he was clever, funny and handsome. It wasn't enough that his friends all thought he was kind, and would do anything for him, and that he'd never heard one person say a bad thing about him. It wasn't even enough that he was flirty, sometimes unknowingly and innocent, like buttoning up his shirt, sometimes with a glint in his eye, the kind of person who would get caught shagging someone in a dressing room.

No, not just all of that. Ennoshita was also the type of person who would dance without shame at nightclubs.

And he also knew every word to 'Disco 2000' by Pulp.

'Shall we go and join them?' Suga asked, and he realised he'd just been staring at Ennoshita for a couple of minutes; the song ended, and a Beastie Boys track began, which he also appeared to know all the words to, as well as some kind of routine the green haired man was joining him in.

He turned to Suga, who was just raising his eyebrows at him, before realisation spread across his face.

'Oh fuck! You've got it bad for Ennoshita!' He jabbed a finger into his shoulder. 'Does he know? He doesn't, does he? Does anyone know? What are you gonna _do_?'

All these questions really needed answers, and a complete stranger probably wasn't the person to be giving them to, especially as he wasn't sure what the answers even were himself. All he knew for sure was he was overwhelmed with _something_ towards Ennoshita, and so far, this was the only person who'd noticed. He also desperately wanted to talk to someone, anyone, and he was offering.

All he could do was turn back to watch Ennoshita, before finally his lack of words seemed to stir Suga into action. He dragged Terushima towards the slightly quieter corridor outside the bathroom.

'Right, I know we've only just met, but you've gone pale. You need to talk to someone about this?' Terushima nodded. 'Ok, talk to me, get it out.'

They were at one end of the empty corridor, and could see if anyone was about to get close enough to hear, but Terushima still looked along the length and behind him to check they were alone. Finally, he took a deep breath, and decided to tell this stranger everything.

–

'Yamaguchi, I can't dance any more without some water! I'm serious.'

'But it's Oasis!' He pouted, and Ennoshita ruffled his green hair.

'Why do you think I chose now to leave?' He ran off before he could hear more arguments, and got himself a bottle of water at the bar. His face was flushed, sweat dripping off his hair, so he held the cold surface of the bottle against his skin, letting out a sigh of relief. It had been a mistake to wear a shirt while dancing, he should have stuck to his usual t-shirt.

He looked back over at the table, and smiled seeing Akaashi had finally settled onto Bokuto's lap. He didn't want to interrupt them, but there were plenty of vacant seats at the table, he just needed to get his breath back for a minute.

'Oh hey!' Akaashi greeted him, clearly not minding the intrusion. 'Did they find you?'

'Did who find me?'

'Terushima and Suga. They went off to dance with you.'

'Terushima came? Cool. When was this?' He was glad to hear he'd decided to come along, clearly he didn't feel uneasy any more.

Akaashi looked at Bokuto, who said, 'About four songs ago, I'd say?' Akaashi nodded his agreement.

'I'm too hot. I'll go find them in a bit.' He drank almost all the water in one slug, and sat alternating between listening to the dull murmuring from the rest of the table, and watching Lev, Yamaguchi and Yachi, who were all still dancing to the Blur song which came on after Oasis.

He let his head loll back onto the cushioned backrest of the seat, and closed his eyes for a second or two of peace away from the flashing lights.

'God, you have no stamina now you're so old! Plus, you've left those three singing “Girls and Boys” between the three of them, it's a bloody mess.' He opened his eyes to see Suga looming over him, a grin on his face. 'You used to be able to dance all night.'

'We can't all be as lively as you in our old age, Suga.' He let his head drop to the left, and looked behind Suga. 'I thought Yuuji was with you?'

'He was. We were getting acquainted in the corridor. Not like that.' He frowned at Ennoshita's raised eyebrows and carried on. 'Nice bloke.'

'Yeah he is. I think he's single. If you _did_ want to get acquainted.'

'Oh, I'm not sure I'm his type, treasure.'

Ennoshita shook his head. 'No, he's definitely gay. And you're everyone's type.'

'You say the nicest things, but not this time.' He leaned down and flicked his nose. 'Anyway, I'm making my play for Daichi tonight.'

'You might want to tell him that, I don't think he's noticed.' He looked over to where Daichi was sitting, talking into the ear of the band member with all the black hair and tattoos.

'I didn't squeeze into these shorts to be a bench-warmer. Just let me do my thing in peace. Go dance. Shoo.'

He pulled Ennoshita onto his feet, and pushed him towards the dancefloor, where he finally saw where Terushima had ended up after chatting to Suga in the corridor.

–

The only conclusion Suga could come to was that this night was turning out to be fucking ridiculous. It had taken a lot of courage, vodka and talcum powder to get into these booty shorts, and Daichi was snuggling up with someone who could not have been more his opposite; taller, broader, darker haired, looking filthy as hell, with a smirk to rival the devil.

Also, he was pretty sure this dick knew he'd been trying to seduce Daichi, because he was looking over, and, damn it _winking_ as Daichi whispered in his ear.

At least he'd done his part for Terushima, the poor bastard just needed someone to listen to him while he talked himself through what was going on in his head. It was the first time he'd met him, so obviously he couldn't comment too much, but already he had a sense that Terushima's mind was a chaotic place.

The only advice (if you could call it that) he'd been able to give was agreeing with all the things he said about Ennoshita, confirming he was indeed single, and telling him to just go for it. It was the kind of generic advice any stranger could have given him, but Suga, as always, was the one on hand to give it.

He watched Ennoshita run over and greet the other man with a hug, catching sight of Terushima's eyes closing involuntarily for a second longer than a blink. It took about another two seconds for Ennoshita to start dancing again, and Suga laughed at how taken aback Terushima looked before he joined in with just as much enthusiasm. The tequila shot Suga had got for them both on the way back to the table, just to calm their nerves, had done its job.

He tilted his head to the side, and was infuriated but unsurprised to see Daichi was making out with the twat with the black hair. He turned away quickly before anyone noticed him watching, but locked eyes with the one person he was counting on not to be watching him; for once, Kenma hadn't been glued to a game on his phone, and had seen the whole scene from all angles.

Surprisingly, he gave him a small, sad smile of understanding, before sighing, and unlocking his phone screen again. Suga slid over to sit next to him, and plopped a head on his shoulder to watch as he played.

–

As he leaned against the sink, checking his hair in the mirror above, Terushima made a decision. On Monday morning, he was going to have to order flowers to be sent to wherever it was that Suga worked; first he'd have to find out where that was, and indeed, what Suga's real name was. But for that reassuring pep talk, Suga deserved to know he was appreciated.

He had spent the last hour dancing with Ennoshita, the two of them somehow managing to shout snatches of conversation over the music by leaning in close to the other, hands brushing shoulders, breath warm across their ears. It wasn't ground breaking discourse, but that wasn't the point; it was casual chatter, getting to know how the other ticked. He learnt a lot just from what made him laugh, which songs he was more enthusiastic about singing to, the way he acted with his friends; but if he was honest, it was the way Ennoshita moved his body which fascinated him, lithe, rhythmic and enticing.

The lock on the stall door behind him clicked open, and Ennoshita joined him at the sink, smiling sideways as he washed his hands.

He said nothing until he was over by the hand towels, where he tilted his head to the side, and narrowed his eyes. 'You've got a tongue piercing.'

'Oh. Yeah, I do.'

'I noticed it when you were shouting along to House of Pain. Did you forget the other day? You said you only had your ears done.' He had a teasing tone, and a crook to his eyebrow. 'Can I see it?'

Tentatively, he poked his tongue out, displaying the small metal ball in its centre. Ennoshita came closer, leaning in to see it more clearly.

'Did it hurt?'

'It was uncomfortable. I couldn't talk much afterwards. It was swollen for a couple of days, but it doesn't hurt now.' He could still feel Ennoshita looking at his mouth, even though the piercing was no longer on display.

The atmosphere grew heavier, as Ennoshita paused, on the precipice of something.

'What's it like,' he started, falteringly, 'When you kiss?'

He cleared his throat. 'For me? Or for...someone else?'

'Both.' His voice had lowered to almost a whisper.

'I don't really notice it any more.' Terushima tried to tame his breathing. 'Sometimes, if the other person hits it in just the right way, the bar gets tugged a bit, it feels pretty good.'

Ennoshita's eyes moved up from his mouth to his eyes. 'Sounds weird. So what about them?'

'I've been told it feels nice. But I've never kissed anyone with a tongue piercing.'

'Me neither.'

Ennoshita looked towards the door, then deciding there was no imminent danger, he stepped forward quickly and decisively, slotting his mouth over Terushima's.

Before he could stop himself, Terushima had brought his hands up to Ennoshita's face, cupping around the sides. In response, Ennoshita's hands rested on his waist, delicately, politely.

He tasted sweet and fruity, and his lips were soft and plumper than he expected. He felt heady, like he was being assaulted by berries. He licked along the line of his lips with the tip of his tongue, and Ennoshita parted them, pushing his tongue into Terushima's mouth. He seemed to be searching for something, so instinctively he used the flat of his tongue, running the metal ball against him.

The hands at his waist twisted in his t-shirt, tugging him towards him slightly, and Terushima moved one hand to spread across the back of his neck, the other in the small of his back, bringing him closer. They settled into a rhythm of Terushima brushing his tongue against Ennoshita's, and getting tiny hitches of breath in response.

As he moved the ball embedded in his tongue to graze along his top lip, Ennoshita let out a whimper – and it was then they heard someone come into the bathroom, and pulled away from each other with a smack, a second too late to not be seen.

'What the fuck? Chikara!' The new arrival was tall with a sweeping fringe, and looked like he was about to punch one or both of them in the face.

Ennoshita was flushed with what could have been only embarrassment or guilt, as he said in a quiet voice, 'Oh, hey, Kenji.'

  


 


	7. Oh, the Towering Feeling!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of bullying towards the middle by Terushima - if you want to avoid it, it starts with 'A voice carries over...' and finishes with 'He never allowed...'.

An hour or so later, Akaashi came back to the table from wherever he'd been talking to Ennoshita, and interrupted his conversation with his new dancing partners to tell Terushima to go to the roof garden.

To call it a garden was actually pretty generous; there were four patio tables, a few mismatched chairs around each one, and some pots with ferns growing from soil spotted with cigarette butts. It was a mild evening for April, and each table was populated with groups, Ennoshita not among any of them. He was about to make his way down the stairs, when he spotted someone's back by the edge of the building.

He walked closer, and found Ennoshita sitting on the floor, his legs under one line of railing around the rooftop, leaning on the one above, with a bottle in his hand. Carefully, he sat next to him, slotting his legs under the metal pole and leaning back on his hands. Ennoshita turned his head to the side, and joined him leaning back, their positions mirrored.

'I thought I'd sit here so I could see if you left.'

'Akaashi said you were up here.'

He nodded. His eyes were more drooped, and he seemed to have had more alcoholic drinks in the last hour.

'What happened with your boyfriend?' he asked quietly.

He snorted at this, and took a drink. 'Not my boyfriend. Never was, really. I told him I didn't want to sleep with him any more.'

'Not because of...' He pointed between the two of them.

'Us kissing? You're good, Yuuji, but you're not that good.' He laughed, and nudged a shoulder against him. 'No, I was sick of him before that. It wasn't any fun, I didn't fight back enough.'

'How do you mean?'

'I don't stay mad long, and I don't really hold grudges. He lives for conflict, I just want an easy life.'

The gravel was starting to dig into his palms, so Terushima sat up, wiping them against each other to dislodge the pebbles, and Ennoshita leaned forward onto the railing again. They sat drinking for a minute, the sounds of cackling and distant music drifting over to them.

'Yuuji, can I ask you something?' He was still staring out towards the city lights, the bottle cradled in both hands.

'Sure.'

'Am I ordinary?' He turned and looked directly at Terushima as he said this, who struggled not to laugh at the seriousness in his face.

'Where did that come from?'

'Something Kenji said while we were fighting. I asked whether things were going anywhere, he just laughed, like it was ridiculous to think I'm good enough for him to be anything other than a bit on the side. People always think I'm boring. I'm just... forgettable.'

Terushima wanted to comfort him, but the last thing he said was true, people  _ did _ think Ennoshita was boring, Terushima had thought he was until someone had pointed out his other qualities and forced him to confront his own prejudice. Now when he looked at him, he remembered his snorting laughing at his bad puns, or his arms flailing around while he was dancing, or the sweet, breathy sigh as he was kissing him; he couldn't quite believe he'd ever thought him to be boring.

'I don't think you're forgettable,' he admitted quietly, as much to himself as to Ennoshita.

He wasn't sure what he expected as a reaction to this, but it wasn't a loud, derisory laugh.

'Ha! Yeah, sure. Whatever.'

Terushima moved closer to him, and leaned forward to hold the side of his face in his hand. His thumb brushed along his cheek, and he said, 'I mean it. I don't think you're ordinary. I've been... thinking about you for a while. I don't think I could forget you, even if I tried.'

Ennoshita laughed again, and shook his head. 'You really don't remember do you?'

'Remember what?'

He sighed, and turned his face, so that Terushima's hand fell limply away. 'The first time we met wasn't when I came for my first hair cut. We met outside here, about four years ago.'

  
  


*

  
  


On Akaashi's first day at his new school, he was put into the class which had a half-Japanese boy. Ennoshita was the Grandson of a refugee child from the second war, whilst Akaashi's Grandparent's had moved to the U.K in the 1960s; these facts, apparently, were enough to ensure they were thrown together at the age of twelve.

Luckily, they became inseparable anyway, a similar dry humour beneath a serious facade which would only be lifted for each other, and a select few like-minded friends. Neither kept in touch with anyone else once they were adults, aside from inevitably being friends on Facebook.

Cambridge was the closest city to their small town; close enough for just one train, far enough where no one knew who they were. The two of them would get a train most Saturdays, wandering the town centre in search of a McDonalds for lunch, before browsing Parrot Records for new demos and zines.

After the shops were closed, they'd go to Jesus Green, unstrap their skateboards, and try moves they'd seen on videos. In the days before smartphones, they had to scribble notes of how to perform tricks they saw on their TV, with help from a magazine. Ennoshita had a camcorder with a tiny memory card, which they could usually only manage to get three minutes of footage on.

The intoxicating feeling of anonymity aided a burgeoning discovery of their sexualities, which would eventually lead to sloppy necking on the children's playground after dark, or deserted train carriages on the way home. Their parents never knew for sure, although they suspected.

As soon as Ennoshita passed his driving test, only a couple of months after his seventeenth birthday, they switched to driving there every weekend instead. They would sneak into the club after the concert finished, staying until two, and then sleep in the car. At first they slept sitting in the front seats, leaning them back a little, but before long they were leaned forwards instead to give them both room on the back seat.

Kissing gave way to more intimate touching, and eventually, just after Ennoshita turned eighteen, they surrendered to each other in his Ford Fiesta in the train station car park. As it was just before Christmas, they'd hung a set of battery powered fairy lights in the back windscreen, blinking warm colours on Akaashi's skin as he leaned over his trembling body.

Afterwards, they went into the station toilets with a packet of wet wipes to clean up, buying two Snickers and a bottle of Lucozade on the way back.

They both managed to get grades good enough for university in Cambridge, although not the more famous one. As they knew Cambridge already, they found a cheap flat to share, and began what they saw as an adventure.

Gradually, their relationship petered out, and went back to a close friendship, perhaps even closer than it had been before. There was no particular reason, they would tell people, they both just had new friends and interests. In reality, the circles of their Venn diagram were wider than they'd thought while they were trying to escape their small town lives.

The two were more like brothers than ex-lovers; in fact many people just assumed this to be the case due to their shared heritage. They hardly ever corrected anyone, there was power in their closeness at university.

At nineteen, the two of them still had shoulder length hair; Ennoshita's would usually be loosely held back, while Akaashi wore his around his face to try and cover the acne which still plagued him. Neither were especially popular, but it didn't really matter, because they both knew their jobs would provide them with all the cool points they would need when they were older. They told each other this fact in comforting tones, while they leaned on the ratty bean bags in their living room, eating Pound Shop noodles so they could use their money for camera film.

In his third year, Ennoshita needed to make a film for his degree, and chose to make a documentary about skateboarding. They didn't go skating as much as they used to, but they would still watch videos on YouTube as they sat around their flat after classes. Akaashi was working on portraits, and the two of them thought sharing a subject would make things that bit easier. They made some friends around Cambridge, many of them still a big part of their adult lives. Tanaka and Noya were already stalwarts on the scene, appearing in the documentary and featuring in Akaashi's photographs. The connections they made would ultimately come in useful when they were looking for work.

–

They graduate in the summer, all four parents sharing a car to come and see them wearing black gowns and mortar boards. Akaashi insists on taking the photos, meaning there aren't enough decent ones of him. There is just one photo of him and Ennoshita together on that day where his mother somehow managed to get the focus somewhat correct, and it hangs proudly on the wall in both households.

After their parents go home, the two of them make their way into town to celebrate. Seemingly everyone from the university is out for the night, and the town is heaving with students in varying stages of inebriation and undress. They take a place in a queue outside a cheap bar, all they want is a quiet pint, possibly some indie music from an eclectic jukebox if they're lucky.

A voice carries over to them from behind.

'Jesus, look at that bird nest.'

Then sniggering.

Ennoshita turns to look, and sees a group of people, perfect hair, make-up, smiles. The tallest, also the blondest, is sneering at them. He has an arm draped over a perfect girl, almost as tall as him in heels, endless legs poking below her skirt. She's giggling behind her hand.

'Is it Edward Scissorhands?'

He looks back round, and sees Akaashi is looking at his hands, rubbing a knuckle as if it's stained.

'Ignore it,' he says under his breath. He hopes they aren't even talking about Akaashi, but his hair has gotten bigger and bushier as it's got longer anyway, and being tied out of the way for the ceremony seems to have given it a whole new life of its own upon release.

'Hey!' The voice gets closer, and he realises with irritation that the blonde man has come over to them. 'If you ever want help with that, just give me a call. I can sharpen my shears.'

Akaashi's hands fly up to his head, and he tries to press the curls flatter. He looks shaken, and Ennoshita gets angrier the more upset he looks.

'Seriously, do you usually cut it yourself? With a blunt knife?'

His friends are all howling at his feeble jokes. Akaashi is just blinking.

Ennoshita turns again, and tries to keep calm. 'Look, just fuck off will you.'

'I'm only trying to help him. He's got a pretty face. I could make something of him.' He takes out a business card and goes towards Akaashi; then seeing he's wearing a jumper, he moves and pops it into Ennoshita's top pocket. He then taps the pocket afterwards, and says in a condescending tone, 'Look after this for him, just in case he ever decides to do something about himself.'

Akaashi has never looked so uncomfortable, and Ennoshita doesn't think he's ever been so angry. His voice is shaking with anger, as he shouts after the man's back.

'And what about me? Aren't you gonna say that bullshit to me as well?'

'Honey. You,' he turns back and says over his shoulder, 'Are beyond even  _ my _ expertise.'

–

He never allowed Akaashi to see the business card, but he also never threw it away. It remained in his wallet, although he was never sure of the reason for keeping it. Perhaps somewhere he wanted to eventually prove that stranger he was wrong about the two of them, so he kept it there to remind him, as some odd, motivational tactic.

Whatever the reasoning, he didn't think he'd ever end up ringing the number on it; but six months later when he and Akaashi decided to cut each other's hair as a money saving tactic, and made a complete mess of each other, he dug that card out, and made appointments for them both.

  
  


*

  
  


'I can't believe I did that. I'm such a tool. I'm so... sorry. I don't know what else to say.'

'I know. I know you're sorry. You're not like that, not any more. Maybe not even then. I honestly haven't been mad about it for years.'

Their four legs swung rhythmically against the wall where they sat, Terushima shaking his head for a full minute since Ennoshita finished recounting what had happened before. Far below them, a row of bikes were chained up, and a solitary figure blew out a wisp of smoke.

'It's no excuse, but if it means anything, I was probably coked up to the eyeballs. And that old crowd were all twats, I don't see them any more.'

'I know,' Ennoshita repeated softly.

'Honestly, coke used to make me such a wanker. I stopped all that once I met Bobata and Futamata. They might be idiots sometimes, but they've been a good influence.' He turned to Ennoshita, placing a hand on his knee. 'It's still no excuse though. I apologised to everyone I hurt when I gave up drugs. I'd have... you'd have been on the list if I'd known.'

He put his hand over Terushima's, and squeezed. 'That means a lot.'

'Why ever did you call me?'

'I could make up some pompous reasoning, but really it was just laziness. I needed a hairdresser, and there was a hairdresser's business card in my wallet. I told you before, I don't really stay angry long, and by that point we both had good jobs, Akaashi had more self-confidence. And somehow I knew you wouldn't remember us anyway. I... suspected that you were cruel to more than just us.' He looked up at Terushima then, who looked distressed at his own memories. 'Sorry, I just meant, I didn't think you'd picked us out especially. You know. That you insulted a lot of people's hair on the street. Like the business card was a 'thing' you did. To entertain your friends.'

At this, Terushima brought his legs up to fold against his body, his hands clasping over the back of his head as it dropped onto his knees. 'Fuck. That's exactly it. Fuck's sake. I'm so... I feel like such a dick.'

'It all worked out. You don't do stupid things any more.' He shifted closer to him so their legs were touching, and moved a hand to rub his back. 'We all make mistakes...'

'You don't get it!' Terushima flung an arm back, shoving Ennoshita away. 'You don't know! I'm still a dick. You just don't... know.'

'You're not a dick,' he said, moving his hand back to resume stroking Terushima, but he slapped him away again, and scrambled to his feet.

'I  _ am  _ a dick, stop telling me I'm not when you don't even know,' he shouted, towering over him.

Ennoshita merely looked up at him from where he sat, hands back in his lap, calm but curious. 'Jesus, Yuuji, what could you possibly have done that's got you this worked up?'

'I made a bet! About  _ you _ ! I bet Bobata and Futamata that I could give you a haircut that would get someone to sleep with you. It's the same shit as four years ago, I haven't changed at all! I was so sure I'd changed.' His hands were scraping through his hair, as he paced backwards and forwards. 'I can't believe I did this again, I just... can't believe it. I'm still the same prick I always was.'

He grunted under his breath, and took a final look at Ennoshita, before he walked away; the door to the roof slammed shut behind him, leaving just two legs swinging over the bike rack.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


 


	8. Accustomed to His Face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning here - the whole first section is Terushima having a panic attack, so if you might find that triggering, then you can ctrl+F to 'what happened?' and you'll miss out description of the panic attack without missing any plot

Terushima had never called in sick before, and he wasn't about to start today. His clients didn't deserve to be inconvenienced just because he would rather stay at home. Besides, if he was alone, all he would do was listen to himself reminding him of how far he hadn't come.

There was a lump in his throat as he alighted from the bus, which only got worse the closer he got to the salon. By the time he was unlocking the shutters, his hands were shaking so much, he dropped the padlock, and then entered an incorrect alarm code.

Once the alarm stopped beeping, he locked the door behind himself, and took time to do his breathing exercises. It had been over a year since he last needed them, but then again it had been over a year since he'd done something stupid.

He made his hand into a loose fist, and blew into the hollow made by his thumb and forefinger; pretend to blow up a balloon, his therapist had said, and then let it go. After four or five exhales, they were becoming more fluid, and the shaking was under control.

The hammering on the door made him jump, and he turned to see Bobata peering through the door at him, concern all over his face. Quickly he unlocked it, and his friend  _ knew _ from his expression.

'What do you need? Can I touch you?'

Terushima nodded, and felt a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. 'Tell me things,' he asked in a small voice.

'The new Marvel film comes out this weekend, we're going to see that, right?' Bobata started with.

'Not that.' The thought of the cinema made him feel like the walls were closing in. He didn't like Marvel anyway.

Without missing a beat, Bobata began talking about a television program they were both watching. He named some of the characters, which bit of the plot he was looking forward to seeing resolved. He paused, watched as Terushima continued breathing into one trembling hand, and moved the other around like a clock hand, urging him to continue.

'I tried to learn the names of those anime characters. There's just so many of them though. Your favourite one is... Otabek. I remember that cause he rides a motorbike and it kind of rhymes. Ot-a-bek, mot-or-bike.'

Terushima smiled behind his hand. 'Clever.'

'Can you manage now? Go upstairs to the break room, I'll open up here. I'll come find you when someone else arrives.'

He nodded, and padded up the stairs, listening as Bobata clicked on all the lights, and unlocked the door. He still felt a little fragile, pathetic, and eternally grateful for meeting Bobata at his support group.

It didn't take long for Futamata to turn up, he'd only just made them both a coffee by the time Bobata came upstairs and joined him on the battered sofa.

'Ok?' he asked simply.

'Yeah. Thanks.'

'It's fine, you know that.' And he really did. The two of them were there for each other in a way only their shared experiences allowed, a mutual unconditional understanding of what was acceptable. There had been plenty of times roles had been reversed, and it was Terushima's turn to wrap him in a blanket, coat, whatever was closest to hand, and console him without words.

'I don't have an appointment until ten,' he said, answering the question that didn't need asking.

'What happened? Do you want to talk about it?'

'I did something nasty to someone. I feel bad about it.'

'When?'

'Four years ago. And then again a couple of months back.'

Bobata sighed. 'Ok. So have you apologised?'

'Yes.'

'Did they accept?'

'Yeah, but...'

'But nothing. Yuuji, if they forgive you,  _ you  _ can forgive yourself. You know what I'm going to ask next.'

Terushima did know. He always asked the same thing; is it as bad as you think it is? He worked his way through his thoughts while speaking.

'I feel like what I did four years ago was terrible. I apologised, and he said he understood I wasn't the same any more. Now I think about it, that's not what's troubling me as much. It's... I thought I'd changed. Then I went and did something else stupid.'

'And is it that bad? Did you actually upset him, or do you just think you did?'

He thought back to Saturday night, and realised he hadn't waited to find out if Ennoshita was upset about the bet. He hadn't even really explained himself at all, he'd just walked off, screaming internally.

'I don't know,' he was forced to admit.

Bobata nodded. The more they talked, the more he was calming. He'd been worrying for over twenty-four hours about having upset someone, when he didn't really know if that had even happened. It was his own mind that had convinced him of the events, distorting the reality.

'So he might be upset, but he might not be. That's a start. Do you know this person well enough to just ask them?'

Terushima took a drink of coffee, and decided he might as well just tell him. 'It's Ennoshita. I told him about the bet we had.'

'You think that would upset him? That you bet you could give him a good haircut? Dude, I don't want to put words in his mouth, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be upset by that. Plus, as far as I remember, you were sticking up for him because we were calling him boring.' He put his cup down on the table, and put his hand back onto Terushima's shoulder. 'What's really going on? Are you fixating on this to avoid something else?'

The truth seemed obvious to him once it was voiced. It wouldn't be the first time this had happened, and despite his best efforts, he knew it probably wasn't the last.

'I think I probably am.' He looked away into his coffee mug.

Bobata rubbed his shoulder. 'Try not to feel bad. Look, sometimes it's not obvious. Now you know, you can confront it head on, yeah?' He took a look at his phone to check the time. 'Look, I'll have to leave you to it, I've probably got someone waiting. I'm here if you need me, though.'

'Thanks, Kazuma,' Terushima said, looking back up at him. 'I'll take a few minutes, but I feel much better.'

He finished his coffee and stood up. 'Good. Be kind to yourself. It doesn't sound as bad as it seems.'

Just as he was about to pass through the door and make his way to his room, Terushima called him back.

'Hey, do you know someone called Suga?'

–

'Who the fuck is Terushima Yuuji and why is he adding me on Facebook?' Suga was looking at his phone like a cockroach had sprouted from the screen.

'He's my hairdresser,' Akaashi answered without looking away from his computer screen. 'You met him at the weekend. Blonde hair?'

'Oh! Yeah, I never caught his name.' He scrolled on the phone for a few seconds, before tapping on the screen, Akaashi guessed to add him back.

He only had a couple of hours to finish editing photographs to go with an article, and really didn't want to engage Suga in more conversation than he had to; however, the distant pinging noise, and Suga's following intake of breath, drew his attention away from the task at hand. He looked over, and Suga's eyes were wide as they scanned his phone screen, before he finished, and let out a loud, 'Ooooooh.'

'What?' he sighed.

'Nothing....'

Akaashi went back to editing, and said, ' _ You _ know you want to,  _ I _ know you want to. Just save us both time and spit it out.'

'Have you seen Ennoshita since Saturday night? Was he ok?'

'Yeah I spoke to him just after he had that fight with Kenji. He was fine, we had a few drinks on the roof.' He thought to himself. 'Then he asked me to get Terushima... I went home, and I saw him yesterday before I went over to see Mum. He seemed normal. Why?'

Suga was still looking at his phone. 'I just got a message from Terushima. Like, immediately after I accepted his friend request. He's asking if Chikara is ok.

'Why wouldn't he be?'

There was a pause, causing Akaashi to look back at Suga again; he was looking uncharacteristically sheepish as he took a deep breath. 'Well, he told me not to say anything...'

'Then maybe you shouldn't...'

'...But Terushima has a massive crush on Ennoshita.'

Akaashi sat up straighter in his chair, raising his eyebrows. 'Really. Hmm.' His voice was thoughtful, rather than questioning or surprised. 'So that's why he was there on Saturday?'

Suga nodded. 'Must be. I talked to him about it for a while.'

'Does he say anything else?'

'You told me not to say anything.'

'There's more?'

'Oh, yes.'

Suga stopped speaking, and crossed his arms looking smug. He was infuriating when he knew something juicy, and against his better judgement Akaashi couldn't contain his exasperation. 'Oh, just tell me!'

'He kissed him. Chikara I mean, he kissed Terushima. In the toilets. That's what the fight was about. Futakuchi? I assume that's this Kenji bloke. Anyway, he walked in on them.'

'What the hell? Why didn't he tell me that?'

Suga scanned the message on his phone again, but shook his head. 'No clues here. Just says he kissed him, and he's checking he's not upset about anything. I'll message back, tell him he isn't, see what else he says.'

'Don't meddle,' Akaashi's voice was slightly threatening as he looked at him from under furrowed eyebrows.

'I'm not! I just feel a bit sorry for him. He doesn't seem to have anyone else to talk to about it.'

Akaashi just smiled; Suga had a habit of picking up strays, he was the kind of person who knew everyone, and everyone knew of him. Of course he would try and help Terushima.

'Oh, another message, hang on.' Suga swiped his screen again, this time looking confused.

'Terushima?' Akaashi asked.

'No. Kenma.' He turned and looked towards Kenma's vacant desk, before going over and searching the drawer for something. He found what he was looking for, and started making his way to the door. 'He wants my help. I'm going to have to go and leave this with you. Will you sort it?'

'What exactly do you expect me to do?' he shouted at his retreating back.

'Just... talk to him I guess. Sorry! You're going to have to work it out without me. Gotta run!'

Akaashi huffed out a frustrated sigh, abandoning his work, and brought up Ennoshita's number on his phone.

–

Working from home was a luxury not afforded to everyone who worked for the magazine, so it wasn't one Ennoshita abused. It was just as easy to write articles in his living room, but even so he would usually make his way to the office to work alongside his colleagues.

Sometimes though, the lure of his own peace-filled flat, working in his comfortable clothes, with the company of his cat and music system, was just too much. Ironically, he often did his best work before eleven on these days, and by lunchtime all of his backlog was complete.

He thought about going out for lunch, and felt ashamed, before reminding himself he hadn't called in sick, and there was no reason he couldn't leave the house guilt-free. He didn't bother changing, just slung a hooded top over his sweatpants and t-shirt, and a helmet over his hair, before hopping on his bike and making his way to Number Four.

The small cafe wasn't far from the offices, and he and Akaashi often had lunch there, although recently his company had been monopolised by Bokuto. They hadn't been for a few weeks, and Ennoshita had a hankering for some of Hajime's golden tofu.

Parker's Piece was more crowded at this time of the day than the usual time he made his way to work, with small groups of people gathering for lunch; students with text books sat on the lawns and chewed sandwiches, spilling lettuce leaves amongst the pages, office workers cornered the bench areas to keep their suits clean, over under the trees someone had already started on a bottle of cheap cider. Ennoshita sailed along the cycle path, slowing for pedestrians, until he found a spot to lock up his bike at the park's edge.

The cafe overlooked the park, with a few tables outside when the weather was good. It seemed Yukie had considered the beautiful spring morning deserving of this treatment, as she was outside wiping them off as he arrived.

'Hey! I haven't seen you in a while,' she said, leaning in and kissing his cheek. 'Where've you been?'

'Nowhere, just letting Akaashi and Bokuto have some space.' He took a seat on one of the freshly cleaned tables, and pulled off his helmet.

'They're so adorable.' She took his order, and walked off, leaving him to check any missed messages on his phone. There were a few group emails, a couple of texts from Tanaka and Noya, and an unusual missed phone call from Akaashi. He called him back, it must be important for him to make a phone call instead of sending a message.

'Hey! Was just talking about you.'

'Same. You free?' His voice was clipped, and Ennoshita was starting to worry slightly.

'Yeah, I'm at the cafe. What's up?'

'Just need to talk to you. Be there in ten.' With that, he hung up.

He tried not to fret as he waited; Akaashi hated talking on the phone, it was probably just that making him sound strange. The food arrived, and was as good as always, the crispy outer giving way to squishy tofu inside, delicate heat from the sweet chilli sauce tingling his lips.

'Alright for some isn't it?' Akaashi said as he arrived, stealing one of the last two chunks. 'Working from home, my arse.'

'I did all my work, I've got to eat, haven't I?' He grinned as he chewed the final piece.

'I'm going to get some of that. You want anything else?' Ennoshita shook his head, and Akaashi went inside to get his own food.

He was glad to see Akaashi seemed normal enough, and wondered if it was just something related to work he needed to talk about. He couldn't imagine what else it would be, unless it was something to do with Akaashi's family who he visited the day before. He hoped not, they were like his own family.

He came back and took the seat opposite, shrugging his jacket off onto the back of his chair and unwinding his scarf.

'So, what did you need to talk to me about?'

'Terushima,' he said, taking a drink of his coffee, 'You didn't tell me you kissed him.'

'Ah.'

'Yeah. “Ah”.'

'It didn't matter.' He waved a hand, dismissing it. 'Things weren't working with Kenji anyway. That's not really what the fight was about.'

Akaashi put down his cup, and looked at him, with irritation. 'This is why I wanted to talk to you. It didn't matter to  _ you, _ but it mattered to him.'

'What do you mean?'

'Why did you kiss Terushima?'

Ennoshita shrugged. 'I dunno. We were talking about his tongue piercing, we'd been dancing, he's hot. Thought it might be nice.'

'See, this is exactly the problem.' His voice was raising, so he stopped speaking and took a breath. 'You still think you're the same nerdy, awkward kid you were when we were younger. You don't think of the consequences of your actions sometimes. Look at what happened with Hana.'

'Don't fucking start, Keiji,' his voice was raising now, 'You know I feel bad about that. This isn't the same at all.'

'Oh, right. Let's look at the evidence.' He started counting off his points on his fingers, as Ennoshita rolled his eyes. 'We're out at a nightclub. You're dancing. You decide to kiss someone just for the hell of it...'

'I didn't know she had a crush on me!' he interrupted, 'I never would have if I knew. I'm not that cruel.'

'Exactly! That's what I'm trying to tell you. For God's sake, Chikara, work it out!' He sat back in his seat, infuriated.

Yukie chose that moment to come over with his food. Akaashi thanked her, and picked up his chopsticks, snapping them in half, and eating the tofu in silence. Normally, Ennoshita would have pinched a piece, just to make things even, but the atmosphere stopped him.

He thought back over the conversation, picking it apart piece by piece. He was still ashamed about the situation with Hana; he'd never kissed a woman, and that night somehow his curiosity got the better of him. He'd enjoyed it enough, but he didn't enjoy her tear stained cheeks afterwards when he explained he was gay and couldn't return her feelings.

The two situations just weren't comparable. He looked defiantly at Akaashi.

'That was totally different to this.'

He looked at him over the tofu he was putting in his mouth. 'Sometimes you can be such an idiot.'

'What?'

The food went back on his plate, and he pointed at him with the end of his chopsticks. 'I can't believe I have to spell this out. For some reason, you've always had this inferiority complex because you think I'm the pretty one, and you're the funny one, and no one will ever have any interest in you.'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Don't deny it.' He punctuated the words with a jab of his chopsticks. 'You have no idea how attractive you are, and that's part of the whole thing. It's only got worse since you had your haircut.'

'What the fuck has that got to do with anything?'

'Because! People are noticing you more. Before, they'd get to know you and realise how great you are. Now, you've got this... confidence. Are you telling me you'd have hooked up with Futakuchi before? You'd have thought he was too good for you.'

'Well,  _ he _ certainly thinks he is.'

'No he doesn't!' Akaashi's voice was raised again, causing passers by to turn and see the reason for it. 'That's not why he was like that with you. Bokuto told me, that's just how he is. The two of you weren't a good fit. It wasn't anything to do with him not thinking you were good enough. God, you are so irritating!'

Ennoshita turned away and mumbled, 'Sorry.'

'No, don't apologise. I don't mean to shout. You've just always been the same.' He sighed, and lowered his voice. 'Look, the point is, this situation is exactly the same as Hana, you just can't see it.'

'It's not the same! We talked afterwards, it was just a kiss. There was no crying. Not about that anyway...'

Akaashi had gone back to eating his tofu before it got cold again, and interrupted him through a mouthful. 'What do you mean?'

Ennoshita didn't want to talk about four years ago with Akaashi. The whole thing was behind them all, ancient history. He hoped he could get across what had happened without having to delve into it.

'Urm, he told me he had some bet about me with his work mates. He felt really bad about it.'

'What did he say?'

Ennoshita thought back to Saturday night, he hadn't really given it that much thought until now. Terushima had left, presumably in embarrassment, after confessing what he did, and he hadn't heard anything from him since. That wasn't unusual though, what was the big deal? 'Well, he left, we didn't really talk about it. Surely he's not still feeling bad?'

Akaashi looked thoughtful, and slowly started speaking. 'I think he probably is. He messaged Suga this morning asking if you're ok.'

'Eh? Oh, right, they probably swapped numbers on Saturday.'

'Didn't you think to go after him? Or at least text him to see if he was alright?'

'I guessed he was just embarrassed and needed time...'

'Fuck's sake!' It was rare for Akaashi to swear, and Ennoshita could tell he was getting frustrated with him, but had no idea where it was coming from. 'Look, I think you should contact Terushima. Tell him you're not upset about it.'

He nodded and shrugged. 'I guess so. I'll text him later.'

Akaashi stood up, patience seemingly run out from the tone of his voice. 'I'm going back to work. Text him  _ now _ , and then think about what I've said. I'll talk to you again later if you still haven't worked it out.'

After putting his coat back on, he slammed a ten pound note on the table, and walked off waving.

He checked the time on his phone, and as it was only two, he knocked on the glass to get Yukie's attention, and mimed drinking a coffee. She understood, and went off to the machine, so he texted Terushima while he waited. By the time he finished, she'd come over with a cup, taking away the money Ennoshita offered her to pay their bill.

He didn't expect a quick response, Terushima was probably halfway through cutting someone's hair, but within five minutes his phone buzzed, and he opened the long message from him.

_I'm glad to hear you're not upset. I still felt terrible. It was just a silly thing between work friends. We were talking about how you'd always had the same haircut, and Saeko told us what a great person you are. I just got annoyed with those two for thinking you're boring. I didn't mean any harm. Hanging out with you on Saturday was really good fun, Saeko was right._

Ennoshita had to read it through a couple of times, he found it hard at first to understand why Terushima would feel bad about the bet. It was harmless, just mates being daft. He and Akaashi made bets like that all the time. Besides, hadn't he given him a haircut that got him sex, even if it was from his room mate?

After the third time, he put the two sentences together; 'Saeko told us what a great person you are' and 'Saeko was right'.

Somehow, all the information he'd been given in the last hour finally slotted together, giving him the answer to a few questions, including why Akaashi was so irritated with his obliviousness.

Terushima had feelings for him. How had he missed it?

The guilt he felt for making bets about him, his interest in the relationship he had with Akaashi. He felt a sinking feeling thinking of the desperate way he'd grabbed his face when he kissed him. In hindsight, kissing Terushima had been cruel, the situation was exactly the same as Hana after all.

He realised with a shock that Akaashi had been right, somehow this haircut had given him confidence, but that had caused him to enter into some kind of relationship with someone he didn't care much about, and then hurt someone without meaning to.

He thought back to what Terushima had said, how he thought he'd changed, but was still doing stupid things, and suddenly, he understood why he'd felt so guilty. His own feelings of shame were burning into his chest, settling in the pit of his stomach. He'd kissed someone without realising they liked him in a romantic way. Again. He hadn't much changed either.

He knew what he needed to do; leaving his coffee, he ran off to get his bike to go back to his flat.

–

Terushima heard the door open as he swept the hair clippings from the floor for the final time of the day.

'We're just closing,' he said, without looking up.

'I washed my hair before I came.'

Terushima turned to see Ennoshita silhouetted in the doorway. 'Huh?'

'I washed it before I came. To save time. I want my old haircut back.' Looking at him, he could see it was indeed wet, combed flat and back off his face.

'What are you talking about?'

'Just... cut my hair for me, Yuuji.' He gathered up the cape from where it hung, and fastened it around himself, before settling into the salon chair. He found the scissors laying on the shelf in front of the mirror, so he picked them up and held them out, handle first.

Terushima silently leant the broom back against the wall, and took the scissors. Ennoshita held onto them, until their eyes met, and he smiled encouragingly at Terushima.

'Why are you doing this?' He took the scissors in one hand, and picked up a comb in the other, and started moving it through his wet hair.

'Honestly? I'm sick of it. I want to just go back to being boring.'

'Don't start that again, Chikara.' He screwed up his face in irritation, as he started snipping along the sides.

'No, I mean it in a positive way. I've been thinking, and I realised I don't want to be the kind of person people seem to think I am now. There's nothing wrong with being average. Most people are, that's the definition of average.'

'You're not...'

'I'm not fishing,' he interrupted him with a sigh. 'I know you don't think I'm average or boring or whatever. It's all subjective. That's what I'm trying to say. I think.'

Ennoshita's familiar fringe was starting to form over his forehead, as Terushima moved around to the front, to slice through it with the scissors at an angle. He closed his eyes, and continued.

'I won't pretend I'd thought about  _ us _ before I kissed you. I did that on a whim. I was feeling weird about Kenji, and thinking about my appearance. It's no excuse, I shouldn't have just kissed you. I'm sorry about that.' He opened his eyes, having heard the scissors stop moving during what he said. 

Terushima was staring at him. 'Why are you apologising?'

'Because, I think you deserve it. Because you  _ have _ thought about us. Haven't you?'

He brushed Ennoshita's fringe to one side, and tugged at some strands to check the length. He let his hand fall onto his shoulder and rest there, thumb rubbing against his earlobe.

'Yes,' he finally admitted.

'How long?'

'Only since the day of the haircut. That's not what did it though, it just... brought it into focus I think.'

'You still feel the same now it's back like this?'

He looked up at Terushima from under the re-established hair, and he was back to the Ennoshita he knew from before; and yet he was somehow the most beautiful he'd ever seen him.

'Absolutely.'

Ennoshita brought his hand up to meet the one on his shoulder, palm pressing against the back of it. His fingers laced between Terushima's, comfortingly, as his mouth curved upwards into a sleepy smile.

'Let's see where this goes. I'm not promising a great love affair or anything, but... life is still good, even when it's ordinary. It doesn't have to be all or nothing. It can just be what it is.'

Terushima moved around behind him, hands moving position, but without unlacing their fingers. He picked up the small mirror, as always, holding it up behind his head with his free hand, so that Ennoshita could see the whole of his new haircut. His old haircut.

'You happy with this?' he asked him.

He held onto his gaze for a few seconds, through the multiple bounced reflections which allowed them to see each other. His answer was measured, thoughtful, hopeful, as everything seemed to be with Ennoshita.

'For now, yes.'

  
  


 

 


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to leave the ending like that. I always got annoyed at the unsatisfactory ending of My Fair Lady, so I decided to add this epilogue.

'You need a haircut, Chikara.'

'Yeah I probably do. It must be at least six weeks by now.'

It's sixty-one days, actually, Terushima thought to himself.

-

Friendship had grown between Ennoshita and Terushima easily and organically since their conversation over his last haircut. They already had each other's phone numbers, but now they were used for something other than organising appointments.

Wednesday was Terushima's half day, so he would make his way to the magazine's office for late lunch, followed by a film. He wasn't as much of a cinemaphile as Ennoshita, but was open to watching most of what he suggested to him. The line had been drawn at a French puppet version of the Marquis De Sade's life, but he wasn't averse to seeing other non English films.

He was constantly surprised by the things he learnt about Terushima, the most recent being that he spoke conversational Spanish, discovered during a viewing of Amores Perros, as well as ordering food in fluent Japanese when they went out for a meal at the local Teppanyaki restaurant.

'Didn't you parents speak Japanese when you were growing up?' he had asked.

'Not really, my Grandfather was about eight when he moved here.'

'Ah I see. My parents came here for university. They both went to Cambridge, then just stayed here.'

Usually after the cinema, they would walk to the bus stop with Ennoshita pushing his bike, and then they would separate, with Terushima getting the bus to wherever it was he lived. Then, after a couple of weeks, they walked the whole way to Ennoshita's flat instead, and watched another film. He'd suggested it as they'd watched the first part of a trilogy, the rest of which Ennoshita owned on DVD, saying it seemed silly to wait to see the other two parts, and to pay for it as well.

This time the film was in French, and Terushima shyly admitted he also spoke a smattering of that language too.

'What the hell, Yuuji?'

'Well, I did do linguistics at university.'

'Really? I never knew that.'

'I don't really talk about it much.'

So Ennoshita didn't ask more than, 'How many languages can you actually speak?'

'Six,' was the reply, soft and with a shrug.

Wednesday wasn't the only day they saw each other; Saturdays were reserved for concert going. Sometimes Ennoshita had to review it, sometimes they stayed behind for the club night afterwards, sometimes Akaashi and Bokuto would join them. Every time was fun.

Since that haircut, Terushima seemed to have settled into himself more. They texted daily, even just to say hello, although it was usually more than that. Terushima had a seemingly endless supply of memes saved on his phone which he sent over if Ennoshita was having a bad day; after a few times, he was charmed to hear they were stored in a folder called 'Cheer Up Chika' for easy access.

Some days Terushima would go uncharacteristically quiet, but he had no such folder to return the favour. Instead, he would tell him facts he'd learnt, eschewing the reason for the sudden barrage of trivia with a simple, 'I just read this thing...'

Neither of them shared much on social media, but their faces popped up on other people's feeds, sometimes Bokuto, often Suga, very often Tanaka and Noya. They were spotted together often enough for mutual friends to ask each other if there was anything going on, to which the answer was, 'Something.'

Akaashi was the only one who knew the whole truth; other people had pieces of the equation, but it wasn't for anyone else to solve anyway, not until they'd solved it themselves.

What makes a friendship dating?

Ennoshita pondered this regularly. They hadn't kissed since that night at Route 66, but if kissing turned a friendship into a relationship, then things would have gone better with Futakuchi. Terushima was the first person he thought of contacting every day, he would read things and remember them to tell him, he would see things and log it in his head as a possible future gift. Would he enjoy this, he thought when eating something, Would he wear that, he wondered when he saw someone in a particularly loud shirt.

Sometimes, in the dark of the cinema or his living room, his hand would slip into Terushima's, rubbing circles into his wrist, and he would squeeze his hand back tightly, as if believing it wasn't real or would slip away from him in a moment of inattention.

Of course he caught him staring, he was sure he would kiss him back if he tried, that wasn't why he delayed it. He'd made mistakes before, rushing into things, and that kiss in the toilets weighed heavily on him still. A kiss wasn't something to be snatched, to see how it felt, a kiss was shared, not given or taken.

'We always go to your place, I feel a bit bad. You could... come to mine? If you want?'

'I don't mind you know. I live closer.'

'You don't even know where I live.'

He laughed. 'No I don't. But you have to get a bus, I can walk.'

'It's called Histon, it's not far away. I was thinking you could come and stay over maybe.' He hurriedly added, 'I have a spare room.'

'Shall I bring films?'

'I can play them in the PlayStation. Or we could play something, do you like video games?'

From there, the planned evening turned from a movie marathon into a football tournament, Ennoshita packing his old football kit as a joke, along with a toothbrush and snacks. He strapped his skateboard on, after learning that Terushima also had one and there was a park in his village they could use, as well as a local pub which did sausage sandwiches on a Sunday morning.

Ennoshita felt like he was fifteen again, sneaking off with his rucksack filled with crisps and spare pants, his head filled with excitement and anticipation. He peered through the window as they got closer to Histon, he'd asked the driver to give him a heads up, but still didn't quite trust him. He spotted the blonde hair before the driver shouted for him, and was already on his feet as they pulled in.

'Welcome to Histon,' he said, before Ennoshita pulled him into a hug, the first since the night they went dancing. Terushima made an involuntary sound, a sharp exhale, almost an, 'Oh,' of surprise, before returning the embrace.

They held hands the whole way back to his house.

It was small, white, and thatched, like something from the top of a biscuit tin. Inside he led him straight upstairs, past two closed doors.

'The bedrooms are on the ground floor,' he explained, 'This view was too good to not have as a living area.'

He was right; the open plan kitchen and living room was flooded with light from the French windows, leading onto a balcony overlooking bright green grass bordering a river so still it reflected the house back at him like a mirror.

They stood on the balcony, hands linked back together after parting so they could drop their bags next to the large sofa. Ennoshita closed his eyes, feeling a slight breeze, hearing nothing but an occasional car, some tweets of birds, a rustle of leaves from the trees along the river bank.

When he opened them and looked to the side, Terushima was looking at him. He smiled, said, 'This is amazing,' and squeezed his hand.

Terushima moved his other hand up to Ennoshita's face, and smoothed the fringe out of his eyes.

'You need a haircut, Chikara.'

'Yeah I probably do. It must be at least six weeks by now.'

'Come in on Wednesday afternoon, I'll sort it out.' He was still smoothing his hair, tucking it behind his ears, twirling the long bits at the nape of his neck around his fingers.

'Do I get it free now? As a perk of dating you?'

'Of course.'

The hand in his hair curled around the back of his neck, pulling Ennoshita towards him so he could kiss him on the temple. His lips were warm, and their light touch prickled beneath his skin, all of it, not just where they touched him.

Terushima began to walk away from the balcony, and it was his turn to squeeze before his hand left him completely, not letting him go. He turned back at the extra pressure on his wrist, and said, 'I'm just getting drinks, I'll be back. Make yourself comfortable.'

He was thankful he let him leave the balcony then so he didn't see the blush on his cheeks.

The living room was lined with book shelves on two of the walls without windows,and the third was full of framed pictures and photographs. The shelves contained books, but also games, DVDs, small figurines, souvenirs. He walked closer to one after spotting something familiar.

On one of their cinema visits, Ennoshita had bought them both a Kinder egg.

'What's this for?' Terushima asked through laughter as he passed it over as soon as the lights went down.

'I haven't had one in years! Look they've started colour coding them, what a load of bullshit.'

'Why do I get the pink one? Are you saying I'm the girl.'

'Don't be stupid. You just don't like Marvel, right?'

His egg contained a tiny Disney Belle statue, causing complaints that it didn't need any assembly, and Ennoshita had eventually swapped for the Iron Man in his own egg which came in sections. After the film, they sat on a bench outside, building the figure, before Terushima slipped it in his pocket.

Here it sat, weeks later, on a shelf in his house, along with a selection of other random things; a small bulldog clip with cinema tickets clamped in its jaws, another one with concert tickets, a set of branded chopsticks from the Teppanyaki restaurant, a napkin from a Lebanese place they'd been to, a pin badge they gave away at one of the concerts, about five bottle caps, a matchbook from a venue. A pile of trinkets measuring the last few weeks.

All gathered together in the same spot on this shelf, like a shrine.

Sitting next to it all was a small pile of photographs, the one on top visible, the one of Ennoshita taken just after Terushima changed his haircut. He'd caught him mid laughter, chin slightly raised, eyes less sleepy than he was accustomed to seeing.

He looked to see where Terushima was, and seeing him occupied with coffee filters, he picked them up and flicked through.

He expected more photographs of himself, for some reason, even though they hadn't taken any others. What he found was screenshots, printed out, some of Instagram photos shared by other people with them in the background, but mainly they were screenshots of their text conversations.

He started reading them, confused, but found only either him thanking Terushima for sending a photo, or the snippets of trivia he'd sent him when he'd gone quiet. He laughed to himself when he found the image saying 'I hate you the least' being spoken by a cat that Terushima had sent him, and his own response, 'same'. There was the text he'd sent quoting a tv show they both enjoyed, with Terushima's response of one red heart. Another conversation, where Terushima had told him what 'saudade' meant, and he'd replied with, 'I like learning new words from you.'

'What are you doing?'

Ennoshita turned around looking guilty, the photographs still in his hand.

'I'm sorry, I just found them here on the shelf.'

'Ah. I didn't move them, then. I meant to. You probably think it's weird.'

'I'm a little confused, yes.'

He took the photographs off him, and looked at them with a smile, before putting them back on the shelf tenderly.

'They help me. When I forget.'

'Forget what?'

'That you care about me. It's what I show myself as evidence.'

'You need convincing that I care about you?' he said with horror.

'It's not like that. I can't explain it. It's like... I know what you look like, but I can't always remember what your feelings look like, so I have photographs of them instead.'

'Yuuji,' he said, tears forming in his eyes, 'Am I really that shitty a boyfriend?'

'God, no, I'm just that shitty at relationships.' He took Ennoshita's hands in his. 'I do like hearing you confirming we're dating, and that you're my boyfriend though.'

'Yuuji,' he said again, pulling his hands to bring him closer. 'Yuuji,' this time whispered against his lips.

Terushima's breathing was faster, their breath mingling as he whispered back, 'Chikara,' before pressing his lips to the corner of his mouth. When he went toward him for a second time, Ennoshita moved to meet him head on.

And there the solution was, in the meeting of their lips, their arms wrapped around each other, gripping into each other's clothing, while the coffee cooled forgotten on the table.

-

Later on, after Terushima made new drinks and then beat Ennoshita at FIFA, they watched one the films he'd brought over with him.

'I brought over English films so we wouldn't have to read subtitles. Well, so _I_ wouldn't have to read subtitles.'

'You don't usually mind subtitles.'

'This time I wanted to be able to look at you more than the television.'

There was a swelling in Terushima's stomach like a tidal wave. He relished being able to lean over and kiss him.

Ennoshita made himself comfortable with his head on Terushima's lap, knees bent up so he fitted on the sofa.

He twisted his fingers through Ennoshita's hair as they watched the film, occasionally dipping his head to kiss him, on his head, his cheek, wherever he could reach. Every time he did, he got a smile in return, sometimes he kissed him back. Not once did he tell him it was annoying him, and the swelling only grew.

Ennoshita hummed. 'Why is having your hair played with so relaxing?'

'It's evolution. It's called social grooming. It's how animals form bonds and reinforce relationships. It also releases endorphins, makes us happier.'

'Huh. Why don't we all do it more?'

'We have new ways to groom each other. That's what social media is.'

'Hmm, I like it, why ever it is. Keep doing it.'

Terushima pulled a strand of hair away from his face and held it towards the ceiling at its full length. 'It's so long. It's been over eight weeks since your haircut you know.'

'Really?'

It's sixty-one days, Terushima thought to himself, bending down to kiss him again.

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend Zelda read through this whole thing for me, so thank you to them. Also they suggested I talk about 'emotional permanence' in respect to this chapter. 
> 
> Basically, I head canon Terushima as having mental health issues, which I didn't want to explicitly say in the fic, but it's there all the same. He has BPD like symptoms; this came to mind upon reading the Johzenji match arc, because he seems so black and white about whether the match is fun or not. He's also incredibly intelligent, in the highest class of all the players, higher than Akaashi even (he's in class 7, Akaashi is 6), but still does things which are questionable; badgering Kiyoko is a huge thing that makes people hate him, for example. He also notices a lot of things other people don't seem to; he's the one who points out that Daichi is what holds the team together and makes it work, even though he doesn't score as much, or isn't a genius setter. 
> 
> Anyway, he has problems with emotional permanence, because once I identify with a character, they get all my hang ups (especially when I pair them with Ennoshita who I base on my husband). Nowadays I take screenshots of conversations and print them out sometimes, but growing up I had shelves and shelves of things to remind me that people cared about me, somehow. Terushima is a kind of mix of these things, especially as Ennoshita is just so fucking oblivious he's not great at letting Terushima know he cares about him.
> 
> I don't know what people think about this, but it's how I see things anyway. Feel free to comment if you have your own H/C for them!


End file.
